


Knoughts & Crosses

by JeromeSankara, lynna21



Category: Supernatural RPF, The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: Alpha Andrew Lincoln, Alpha Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Andrew is not married to or with Gael, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Biting, Breeding, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Norman Reedus, Past Relationships, Season One TWD, Skype
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-03-02 22:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 130,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13327473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeromeSankara/pseuds/JeromeSankara, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynna21/pseuds/lynna21
Summary: Norman Reedus didn't expect much from his role in The Walking Dead. It would be little more than exploring Georgia and getting some sun, and he had no doubt he would be killed off after the first few episodes.Then he met Andrew Lincoln. An Alpha with a dazzling smile and a gentle touch. There was just one problem. Norman already had a pack, and this was becoming much more than he was willing to handle. All he wanted was to return home. But his idea of ‘home’ was changing, and his instincts were leading him down a path he never thought he’d take.





	1. First Day on the Job

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing started back in October with one sentence: I wonder what a Leedus a/b/o would be like. And now, over 100k words later, here it is. The entire thing is complete, with only editing/proofreading to do. As of right now, we’re planning on posting a chapter every Tuesday. 
> 
> We’ve gone over it several times looking for mistakes, but if you spot the inevitable straggler, feel free to poke at one of us, and we’ll fix it. Thanks in advance, and we hope you enjoy it! - Jer & Lyn

“Shit, hell, fuck, fuck, shit, _fuck!_ Where _are_ they!”

Clothes were being flung from the bottom of every closet, drawer or cabinet the man could think of. He'd turned his once spotless bedroom into more than a bit of a mess. Hell, he knew he had a bad memory, but _this?_ Something as important as _this? Today?_

“Fuck!” he groaned loudly as he stood up from the mess that had pooled around his feet, and ran his fingers through his short hair. Okay, okay, calm down. Deep breath. He knew he had them. He remembered checking them a few times at the airport just to make _entirely_ sure they were there.

Now if only he could remember where he’d put them!

Blue eyes darted up to the clock on the wall, and he felt his stomach drop. Shit. He had to get going. The last thing he needed - or the _second_ to last thing he needed - was to be late on his first day. Everyone was already together. Had been shooting for a week or so. And now… Now he was the outsider coming in.

_Shit._

“Fuck it,” he groaned to himself, turning on the heels of his boots and stepping out of his bedroom. His apartment was smaller than he’d hoped for, but he wouldn't be down here for very long anyway. Maybe a month at most. Then he could go back to New York, back to his son…

A soft ache lodged in his chest, and he shook it quickly away. No, he would be going back home soon. They’d said he was only going to be in a few episodes, which was a damn shame. From what he had seen of the script, the show was _fucking awesome_.

It was also a show that was probably filled with fucking Alphas that would want to pin him down the first opportunity they got.

A shudder ran up his spine as he grabbed his jacket, knowing that he’d need it with the motorcycle he rented. It was hot down in Georgia, but he knew better than to go riding in nothing but a t-shirt. He needed to protect his body from the burn of the air.

Just as he was sliding on one sleeve, a sound caught his ears. A rattling. Oh. Now he remembered.

He numbly reached down into his left pocket, and felt his fingertips rub against a slick cylinder. Pulling it out, he let out a sigh of relief as he read the label.

_Omega Hormonal Suppressants_

_200mg Progestogen_

_Refillable up to 9/17/10_

_Norman M. Reedus_

The red pills inside rattled against each other in a sound that soothed his frayed nerves. He had plenty to get him through shooting. If he laid low, then maybe they'd never notice. Just another Beta… As long as he was careful and didn't trip his own body’s triggers, that would be all he was.

Not just a breeder for whichever Alpha could pin him down first.

Producers told him that there wouldn’t be any risk, that the gender ratio was equal, but that was a fucking lie. It was never equal. It was going to be another 5:1.

Huffing to himself, Norman shook his head and slid on his jacket. He just needed to get the filming over with. God, and he thought he would actually _enjoy_ this one too… Grabbing his keys, he threw a glance back at his apartment. He was only a quarter unpacked but he didn't plan on making himself at home. After this, he was going back to New York, to his 'pack’, and away from the set of _The_ _Walking Dead_ , where it would be the same as any other set.

Always too many Alphas, and no one he knew. Just another day, being thrown into the lion's den.

 

\---

 

God, it was hot. His agent wasn't kidding when he said that he needed to be ready to drink a shit-ton of water to keep hydrated and stick to whatever shade he could find.

The directions were easy enough to follow, and after showing some ID, he parked his motorcycle in a small lot. He could already tell where the stars were; they had their own parking spots. Andrew Lincoln, Jon Bernthal… Those were probably the 'Rick’ and 'Shane’ of the show, a.k.a, Alpha fucking city.

Biting down on a sigh, he dismounted his motorcycle and placed the helmet between the handlebars. They were filming outside on a bluff, meaning that trailers were few and far in between. Norman was quick to flick on his sunglasses, as not doing so would be the quickest way to expose himself.

As nonchalantly as he could while walking his way up to the set, he cracked open the bottle and swallowed a pill. Norman hated these, and it had been awhile since he’d had to take them, but it should be fine. Worst that could happen is that he’d get moody, and that was what Daryl was anyway.

A moody asshole who was pissed all the time. Norman smirked to himself. They’ll have him killed off in no time.

After passing through some more security, he managed to wander his way onto set. Hell, he couldn't really tell who was crew and who was cast. Everyone was all mixed together. Taking in a deep breath only gave him a headache. So many scents. Already, all he wanted to do was go back home. No one was even glancing his way.

Then someone said his name. A male. And it immediately made the hair on the back of his neck stand up because he was almost _sure_ it came from an Alpha.

Turning swiftly, he couldn't contain his own glare, even hidden as it was under the sunglasses, until he saw the figure walking towards him. Tall. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Dressed in a police uniform. A little bit leaner than he expected, but all the same. It took just one breath of his scent to confirm his thoughts.

Alpha. _Unsuppressed_ Alpha. Because why would Alphas bother themselves to make anyone else comfortable.

His natural instincts of course told him to get out of this place, to get away from the unknown Alpha walking towards him. But he had to play nice, even when he could feel a growl rumbling in his throat.

A smile crossed the Alpha’s face and he just slightly tilted his head. “You must be Nigel.”

And of course he had an accent. It was stupid for him to think that he wouldn’t, but the southern accent… Fuck. He was going to need a lot more suppressants than he thought.

“Uh, Norman. Um. Reedus,” he stammered, barely managing to compose himself as the Alpha let out a soft laugh, showing brilliantly white teeth.

The Alpha reached out his hand once he was close enough, still smiling. “My apologies, Norman. I'm Andrew. You can call me Andy if you'd like. Welcome to the family!”

What a cheesy bullshit thing to say. Norman's eyes flicked down to the extended hand, feeling his chest tighten up. No, he had to act like an Alpha. Act like he wasn't freaking out deep inside with so many unfamiliar Alphas and being so far away from his pack.

It was with some hesitation that Norman extended his own hand, grasping Andrew's in a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Andy,” he said, forcing a faint smile onto his face. At least he had the sunglasses to hide the gold that he knew was leaking into his blue eyes. Was it too much to want to quit already?

Apparently it was, because not two seconds after letting go of Andrew's hand, the crew was already starting to talk to him all at once. One at least put a coffee in his hand on the way to the makeup trailer, and the other handed over the newest version of the script. They’d made some changes that morning.

It was while sitting in that make-up chair and getting sweat and grease applied to his body that he read over the addition to the script, _the fight,_ and nearly spat out his coffee.

Fuck this.

 

\---

 

Halfway through filming that day, Norman had pretty much everyone picked out. He had a sharp nose, after all, better than most.

He had been correct in assuming that Andrew and Jon were Alphas. Most of the females were Betas. The director was an Alpha, because they almost always were, and the kid… Chandler wasn't old enough. He was maybe eleven. Cute kid.

Reminded him of his Mingus.

His teeth gritted together, and he tried to shake away the thought. He missed his son so goddamn bad already. It was like a piece of his body was missing… It almost was, since he was technically his birth mother. Helena was an Alpha female. It was part of what had attracted him to her, other than the fact that they had been set up together. Had to find something to like about the sire of his pups.

It had been a rough time, fighting his biological clock in search of a proper Alpha. In the end, he gave in to a ‘breeding program,’ helping Omegas and Betas find proper Alphas and vice versa. They had split when Helena decided she was looking for something ‘different’. Not that he would ever regret what he did, as Mingus was easily the light of his life.

He did regret taking on _Boondock Saints_ while he was still in the very early stages of his pregnancy. Even when his body was still in shape enough for those ass shots the director decided to include or the shirtless moments, he had still been _incredibly_ sick. The demands of filming had taken so much out of his body that he had been put on sick leave by his own _agent_ out of fear that he could… Well, he didn't really want to think of what could’ve happened.

He didn’t want to think about the fact that they had resorted to a C-section either. He had never quite gotten his strength back after he’d been put on bed rest, and there had been moments of real danger for _both_ of them.

His hand subconsciously dropped to his stomach, feeling the surgical scar that was a little over ten years old. Doctors warned him that carrying again to full term could have consequences. He shouldn't even allow himself to go into heat, not that he did much anymore, after the damage that had been done during his delivery of Mingus, thus the suppressants. On the rare occasion that he did go into heat, they also helped take the edge off. Made it more like a low simmer instead of a full on roiling boil. It was fine when he was with his pack, when they knew his limits and could help him get through them with far less risk.

But here, he was in a pack of strangers. Not even that. A _scattering._ No true pack, just a gathering of random Alphas and Betas.

Rubbing the open palm of his hand across his cheek, he watched the other actors through narrowed eyes. It was the reunion of Rick and his family, and damn it, it only made him ache more. The only reason he was even on set was that they were getting ready for his big entrance.

They had, quite literally, _everyone_ on set, with the exception of Michael Rooker. All the cast, even the ones that would be killed off by the end of this episode. Everyone would be there when Daryl would make his first appearance, looking for his brother. And he got to have squirrels. Feeding the pack because apparently no one else knew how to hunt.

In a lot of shows these days, the people in charge opted to ignore the Alpha, Beta, and Omega dynamic that was such a large part of everyday life. Any physical traits the actors got from their second genders were edited out, like the change in eye color. They were all told to avoid any kind of scenting, or marking. No Alpha posturing or flashing of fangs and claws. The general rule was: Act like a Beta.

This show, however, was embracing it. He had to admit, the mental picture he’d developed of a red eyed Alpha slicing through a hoard of hungry zombies was pretty fucking cool.

Norman huffed under his breath as he thought about some of the things directors and producers had told him over the years. _While in character, everyone is equal._ It was hard not roll his eyes at the thought. Hell, if he had a dollar every time someone fed him that everyone is equal line... It was hard getting a job as an Omega. Health insurance was through the roof, heat leave, the fact that they were viewed as _weak._ It was against the law to discriminate but that didn't matter to anyone. They would find some other excuse or reason not to hire him.

Modeling came in handy for Omegas. He’d done his fair share. If you caught them at the right time just before a heat, _god_ those pictures turned out amazing. It wasn't fun, though, trying to trigger a heat without going too far-

“Norman, you're up.”

Blinking rapidly beneath his sunglasses, Norman lifted his head to the crew member that was signaling him. Oh. Yeah. Shooting. Filming. The thing he was here to do. Placing the cup of coffee on the ground, where it would absolutely be tipped over within minutes of leaving his chair, he got to his feet. At least his costume was comfortable. Ragged, but soft, and worn just enough to be comfortable.

He was showing a bit more skin than he cared to, too many chances to leak out pheromones, but it worked. Wasn't a heavy coat like in _Boondock_. If he’d had to wear that damn wool coat in this heat, he’d probably keel over in minutes.

Grabbing his string of squirrels, Norman headed over to his mark, and waited for the scene to start. He kept his eyes narrowed, and a faint scowl on his face after action was called and he strode across the camp, calling for his brother.

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up.”

Setting his crossbow and arrows onto the ground, he felt his shoulders tense a bit when Jon Bernthal, “Shane”, called out his name.

“Daryl. Just slow up a bit, I need to talk to you.”

Norman paused. The feeling of the man’s eyes on him starting a small prickle on the back of his neck. “About what?”

The man rubbed a finger over his lips, unknowingly letting loose a small burst of Alpha-tinted air in Norman’s direction. The prickle turned into needles. “About Merle.There was a uh... There was a problem in Atlanta.”

Norman tensed, and glanced around the clearing. They were all staring at him. Two Alphas within arms reach. At least two more lurking around the edges of the camp. His eyes started to itch, and he knew they were seconds away from having Omega gold bleeding in around their edges.

He backed away a couple of steps, keeping his chin tucked in a bit, and looking at Shane from the corner of his eye. “He dead?”

“We're not sure,” Shane murmured.

Norman bristled, anger beginning to coil up in his chest. “He either is or he ain't!”

A second Alpha walked in from the sidelines then. Norman’s eyes jerked to his, and he tensed further. It was Andrew, just without the officer costume.

“No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it.”

“Who’re you?” Norm spat, feeling the tight ball of his anger straining at its seams.

“Rick Grimes.”

He bored his eyes into Rick’s. “Rick Grimes. You got something you want to _tell_ me?”

Rick barely skipped a beat, his blue eyes narrowed cautiously at Norman. His voice was calm, controlled. The opposite of what the scent of all the Alphas was doing to Norman. “Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there.”

Norman began to pace, rubbing at his eyes which he was sure any moment would begin to thread with gold. He needed to control himself, but taking a deep breath only sucked in more Alpha. “Hold on. Let me process this.” His eyes swung back up to Rick, who did not even flinch. “You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof. And you _left him there_?!” he yelled, trying desperately to rein in his emotions, but failing spectacularly.

“Yeah.”

He felt his face start to go red, and he clenched his teeth. Grabbing at the string of squirrels, Norman threw it at Rick, and milliseconds later, he felt the breath leave his lungs as he was knocked off his feet.

Immediately, his instincts started demanding that Norman to comply. That he let the Alphas do what they want with him, and be the submissive Omega. But he refused. Snarling, Norman fought his way free and jerked out the knife he kept sheathed at his hip. It wasn’t real, of course, just stiff plastic, but he still needed to be careful with it. He sprang to his feet, and heard an Alpha in the background say, “Hey. Watch the knife!”

Norman swung the knife at Rick once, then again, only for him to grab his wrist tightly the third time. Then the other man, Shane, grabbed his shoulders, his arm sliding in and locking around Norman’s neck while he said, “Okay. Okay.” As if that was supposed to calm him.

Shane tightened his arms, and Norman felt himself dropping down to his knees, and he let out a frantic, “You'd best let me go!” It was at that point that his eyes finally escaped his control. Instantly he squeezed them shut, even as the gold burned further into his blues.

“Nah, I think it's better if I don't,” Shane said, finally succeeding in getting Norman on the ground.

“Chokeholds illegal,” he ground out, between slightly panicked sounding wheezes. All he could feel was the dozens of people staring at him, waiting for the Omega to fall. Their combined stares pressed against his body like hands, forcing him down.

“Yeah, you can file a complaint.”

Norman continued to struggle, never daring to open his eyes. His hands grasped at whatever he could reach, but his nails would not cut through the skin of an Alpha. They were not claws.

Shane spoke from above him, “Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day.”

Forcing his eyes to remain shut, eyes that would give everything away if he opened them, Norman breathed heavily. His lungs were taking in air redolent with the scent of these two unknown Alphas, men he’d barely even spoken to, and his body was pleading with him to go limp, and pliant. Do whatever these two _strangers_ asked him to do. Even if it meant being pinned.

“I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic,” Rick said, from directly in front of Norman. His warm breath was blasting against his face, and it hit him like a slap. “Do you think we can manage that?” He could feel the other man’s eyes searching for his, and he couldn’t shove the urge to obey down far enough. “Do you think we can _manage_ that?” Rick repeated, and this time he could hear the low rumbling of a growl.

Norman jolted in Shane's grip, his nails sinking so deep into his arms that he was almost drawing blood. That voice. The _Alpha_ voice. It was possible Rick hadn’t done it on purpose, but Norman's entire body from shuddering.

Obey.

Obey.

_Obey the Alpha._

Norman said nothing, his mind reeling from such a concentrated dose of their combined scents as he fell almost limp within Shane's arms, his control escaping. He felt Shane nod, and murmur, “Yeah.” Then he was let go, pushed away quickly, like he was a wild animal ready to turn and bite.

Scrambling back a bit, Norman blinked open his eyes for the first time, and immediately he latched onto the Alpha that had pinned him to the ground. He growled deeply just as he saw the shock, and he knew now that his eyes were completely gold. Shane swallowed, and then red flooded into his irises.

Rick moved forward, not having seen the golden color of his eyes yet, and knelt on the ground at Norman’s side. Rick’s eyes were still trying to connect with his, but Norman managed to resist the urge to raise his own, instead keeping his head ducked down. The Alpha will give orders. The Omega will listen. He felt like his own body had turned against him.

“What I did was not on a whim,” Rick said, tilting his face down. The voice was gone. It was calm. He had done good. Obeyed the Alpha. “Your brother does not work and play well with others.”

Norman met his eyes for a second. Just long enough to recognize the shock that flickered through them before they turned toward another voice that sounded off to the side.

“It's not Rick's fault.”

 _Another_ fucking Alpha, Norman thought, looking at the large black man heading their way. Fuck it. Might as well get this shit over with. Fucking first fucking day, and he can’t fucking keep his goddamn hormones, or whatever the fuck they are, to himself. And the fucking Alphas! Just _throwing_ their scents all around because who gives a shit if it affects any Omegas that just happen to be around? It doesn’t affect them, so why should they care?

“I had the key. I dropped it.”

Confused, but starting to gain back control of his own body, Norman asked, “You couldn't pick it up?”

“Well, I dropped it in a drain,” the man said, his voice weary.

Norman scoffed, and lifted himself back onto his feet. He pointedly ignored the blue-eyed Alpha standing to the side, probably still reeling from his discovery. “If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it don't,” he said, throwing a small handful of dirt at the man’s feet.

All their gazes were still on him, he could feel them crawling across his skin. And the smells were almost overwhelming. The instinctual urge to make the Omega stand down from the Alpha. He could see it in T-Dog’s eyes, in the ring of red that was starting to show through. Shane’s eyes remained red, almost completely taking control. His hands were fisted at his sides, and Norman knew that he was fighting the urge to take what he had won.

Norman purposely turned away, his golden eyes now scanning the cast and crew.

Let them see. Let them _all_ see the shit they caused. Secret’s out, doesn't matter anymore!

“Well, maybe this will.”

Stopping, Norman looked at the man with narrowed eyes.

“Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him. With a padlock.”

His neck prickled again, and he turned to look at Rick as he spoke.

“It's gotta count for something.”

Rubbing a hand across his itching, gold-flooded eyes, Norman said, “Hell with all y'all!” He swung his arm at all the people staring. Watching him with judgemental eyes. “Just tell me where he is. So's I can go get him.”

“Cut!”

Norman threw a glare toward the crowd of people that had now gone dead silent, and stomped out of the clearing. He heard Greg behind him, the only other person on set that he’d actually met, but ignored his words. He needed to get the fuck out of this situation right the fuck now.

Storming down the small hill, he finally saw the wardrobe trailer in the distance. Thinking longingly of all the things inside, perfect things to line a nest, he headed in that direction.

He threw open the door, startling the poor Beta inside, and growled at her, lowly, the tips of his slightly elongated canines peeking from the seam of his lips. “Get out.”

She threw up her hands, and scrambled out the door.

Locking the door behind her, Norman paced the length of the trailer over and over. His hands dragged through his hair, and he mumbled under his breath, his arms gesturing wildly at nothing. After several minutes of pacing, he moved farther into the trailer. He worked his way in between racks of clothing, and pulled various things off the hangers, throwing them down on the ground at the back of the far wall.

He hated that he needed this sometimes. Hated that all it took to _make_ him need it was a hard look, or a rough touch from some Alpha. Burrowing deeper into his makeshift nest, throwing what looked like a hospital gown over his head, Norman sighed into the fabric.

“I am so fired.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Wanna talk to us? Jer's got a Twitter! @ZeroKiryuu167 and he may eventually just get a new Twitter with a name that actually is his name. Never know.


	2. Packmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Omega away from his pack was like his lungs were pulled out of his chest. Norman needs his Alpha. Needs to see his pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh only uploading on Tuesdays? We can't wait. We're bad at waiting. So expect them on Tuesday for sure, but if we are antsy, Friday works too.
> 
> So excited to see how much people like it already <3 thank you all!
> 
> \- Jer & Lyn

Back at the campsite set, several of the main actors and a few crew members gathered around the outside of the RV.

Jon Bernthal was the loudest of all of them. “What the fuck, man? Not telling me I was gonna have to choke out a fucking _Omega?_ You had to have known something like that was gonna happen!” The Alpha was pacing, his breathing rushed as he worked to calm his own urges, red still lingering in his eyes.

Shaking his head, Kirkman spoke up. “He didn’t want anyone to know. Said it’d be easier if you all thought he was a Beta.”

“You should have told Jon and I at least,” Andrew said, running his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. His eyes were also ringed red, but he appeared calmer than Jon. “We were the ones that had to manhandle him.”

“I hear you, okay? I hear you,” Kirkman said, looking between Jon and Andrew. “I think we can use most of that take though. It was intense.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “That’s going to be the only thing you film unless someone can convince him to come out of the wardrobe trailer.”

“I can go get him,” spoke a small voice from off to the side.

Melissa visibly shrunk under the gaze of so many Alphas on her at once. Firming up her spine, she lifted her chin, burying the urge to duck their gazes. “I told you from the beginning that I was an Omega. I’ll get him.”

Walking up behind Melissa, Sarah slid a warm hand onto her shoulder. “I’ll go with her.” She looked at Melissa, and smiled tentatively. “At least wait outside.”

Melissa nodded, and turned, heading down the hill.

“Melissa,” Andrew said, jogging up behind her, and tapping her on the shoulder. He looked at her and smiled sheepishly. “Tell him I apologize, alright? Jon and I both.”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll do that.”

\---

The scents in the wardrobe trailer were starting to give Norman a headache. Most of them were freshly washed, of course, not having been used yet. Others, though, smelled of the various items used to make fake blood and guts, causing his already uneasy stomach to roll.

There were different Alpha scents, too. Some that he didn't recognize from who was on set that day, meaning that there would _of course_ be more Alphas to deal with.

Unless he quit first. Or got fired.

Norman groaned loudly to himself as he shifted within his rapidly warming nest, pushing against coats and sweats in an attempt to shift them to better positions. The hospital gown had been moved to drape over his body, much more of a blanket than anything else he had yet to find.

He wanted to go home. He wanted the trench coat. It was his favorite, but he couldn't take it with him to Georgia. His Alpha would need it. Or… one of his Alphas. Norman's pack was far from the usual, more like a collection of smaller packs.

Taking in a deeper breath from the hospital gown, he tried to search for some familiarity, but all he could smell was the mixture of detergent, corn syrup and Alpha. The burning in his eyes had yet to cease, and he knew his pills were with his jacket. By the set. Where all the damn Alphas were.

_Knock knock knock._

“Go 'way!” Norman called out, his voice hoarse. Great, now he got himself stuck in Daryl. Cursing beneath his breath, he shoved his face back into some ancient fur coat that was falling apart at the seams. He wasn't leaving this nest. Nope. Not ever. He would rather die here than move.

“Norman? I know we haven't met…”

A female voice. Soft. Lacking the edge of an Alpha. It was enough to make Norman lift up his head, blinking. Here he had been expecting any minute for either Andrew or Jon or any other Alpha to come claim their prize. They had pinned him, after all, even if it was because of a script.

The voice paused for a moment, and there was the mumble of another female. “I'm Melissa. I play Carol?”

Carol… Carol… He vaguely remembered her in the script. She was… the abused wife. The meek little mouse. Mother of a little girl. He saw the name in the script. Soph-... Her name was hushed from his thoughts just as the ache tore into his heart.

Not the time. It wasn't her.

Norman sat up slowly within his nest, uncurling his body.

“I'm Sarah,” the other female voice said, this one a bit peppier. “I play Lori.”

The cheating bitch.

A growl rumbled in his throat, and he would’ve lowered himself back down had it not been for Melissa speaking again.

“I know how hard it can be on the first day. It's always a little intimidating with all the Alphas.”

“...Fuckers should suppress if I gotta,” Norman muttered, in an awkward position of half sitting up and half moving back down.

A few soft laughs came from the other side. “I know, honey,” Melissa said, with Sarah adding in her agreement.

Still suspicious that they had been sent over here to fetch him for more scenes, Norman narrowed his eyes at the locked door. “...What do you want?” he asked softly, a bit of the edge fading. They weren't Alphas. He didn't need to be quite as gruff.

“I know how important your nest is. I was just wondering if you needed something to make you more comfortable? Your clothes, your phone, something familiar?”

How the hell did they know anything about nests? Actually, no, he took that back. It was common knowledge you never stepped into an Omega’s nest uninvited. It was their safety from the rest of the world. Why they were respecting that boundary for a stranger who just stormed off set and caused a huge scene, he wouldn't know.

But there was something.

“...Uh, I… I got a backpack. In my motorcycle. Left side. I… I gotta give you the key,” Norman said lowly, patting his pockets, only to curse. These weren't his pants. He was in costume.

“I'll get your keys!” Sarah said, causing Norman to let out a sigh of relief. One of them was leaving. Straining to listen, he heard nothing more from that woman. While he hated the idea of someone touching his motorcycle, he wasn't in any shape to go to it himself.

“...Honey, just so you know, you're not alone. I'm an Omega too.”

Norman blinked, having not expected that bit of information. He had been sure there had been no Omegas… but also that was the point of suppressants. To hide it.

“First day was hard for me, too. A lot of Alphas. But they're very nice people. Andrew and Jon especially. They feel awful for doing what they did.”

The growing comfort in her voice was working to relax him much more than he anticipated but that was part of an Omega’s makeup. They were a calming presence when not startled. They were the ones in the nursery with the pups, after all. Tending to the little ones. It was in their blood.

Yet Norman just huffed, gradually laying back into his nest. His fingers tangled into the hospital gown and pulled it tighter against his face, taking in another breath of the scent, trying to force familiarity.

“...Do you have any pups?”

Immediately Norman's full attention was captured. It was an Omega's weakness, anything about their children. It was something that was impossible to turn off.

“I… have a son. He's almost eleven. I'm thinking he's going to be an Alpha.”

The pride brimming in his voice was uncontainable, and he caught himself in the middle of a smile. Melissa was chuckling on the other side of the door.

“Good! I bet you miss him.”

“Horribly. I…” Norman swallowed, settling his eyes on a bit of torn fabric on the gown. “... I really want to go home.”

“Me too, honey. But we're working on something that's going to be big. Just think of how proud you're going to make your son when you get home, tell him about all the mean Alphas you beat up.”

Norman actually laughed. It was hoarse, and it reminded him that he really wanted a drink of water, but it still felt good. It lightened his body in a way. Though his wish to continue the conversation was thwarted as Sarah returned, saying something to Melissa that he couldn't quite catch.

“Norman, we have your things. Can you be a dear and open the door? We won't come in unless you want us to,” Melissa said, her voice sweet and gentle.

Even as his body protested and begged for him to lay back down into the folds of fabric, Norman managed to pull himself free from his nest. With every step, he took in a breath. Checking. Making sure that it was only the two women and not security about to take him back to set and kick him out of the trailer for good.

He was pleasantly surprised that, when he opened the door, it was indeed only the two women standing on the other side. He recognized Sarah, she had been close during the scene, since she was supposed to have lines. Melissa… He hadn't seen her yet.

She looked like an Omega. Small, almost frail, harmless but caring. Flicking his eyes from one to the other, he finally spotted the bag.

His heart leaping in his chest, he quickly stretched out his hands, even if he never took a step out of the trailer.

With no delay, Melissa stepped forward and placed the bag into his hands, immediately stepping back. Norman hoped that he hadn't offended them when he disappeared right back inside the trailer, even as he accidentally let the door stay open.

It at least aired out the scents of the unfamiliar Alphas. He had only one thing he wanted to focus on now.

Curling up within the soft walls of his cobbled together nest, he opened the backpack, and took out a large sealed bag. He clawed at it’s ziplock seal, and the moment that he got just the smallest scent, his entire body relaxed, sinking into the nest. For the first time since he left New York, there was comfort. Warmth. Happiness.

Carefully, he slid the leather jacket out of the large bag, and only once the jacket was out did he allow himself to touch it again. The softness of the leather, the marks telling of its age, the patches that were sewn in...

Norman pressed his face against the leather, unable to help himself as he nuzzled into the reminder of home. He could almost feel his Alpha’s strong arms curling around him, radiating warmth and absolutely covering him in his scent.

Curling up properly into the nest, Norman wrapped his arms tighter around the jacket and just focused on the scent, and let it take him back home. Where he was with his family. Alphas he knew he could trust, and another Omega to wrap up alongside him in a shared nest, both of their faces pressed into the sweet smelling head of a baby boy.

The first baby to be born into his pack. Another one coming in the next couple of months. Norman buried his his face into the soft leather, and tried not to get emotional. He should be there. Comforting his friend through the final months of her pregnancy, and helping his closest Alpha and his Omega with their new son.

Fumbling into the backpack once again, Norman pawed through the contents until he found his iphone. Pulling the device in close to his chest, he began to type.

_‘I fuckd up already. the scene with the squirrels and the choking I told you about, the last minute addition? went gold.’_

He stared at the phone intently, willing his Alpha to reply.

_JDM: Those fucking Alpha assholes. Do I need to fly down there, and kick someone’s ass?_

Norman snorted, and dug himself deeper into the nest.

_‘wasn’t their fault. Know how they said that there was an equal gender ratio'_

_JDM: Uh huh…_

_‘There isn’t. The 2 that had 2 choke me and shit are both Alphas another 3 or 4 at least just in the scene we shot today and not evry1 was on set then theres crew. I got overwhelmed, and now I’m sorta… nesting in the wardrobe trailer._

_JDM: HA! Only you, Norman. Only you._

_JDM: You know I’ll kick their asses if they hurt you. But I think you got this. Go out there and show them what a badass you are. Omega doesn’t mean shit._

Smiling, Norman tucked the phone against his chest for a moment, and took another deep, calming breath full of Jeffrey’s scent. His Alpha wasn’t even here, and he felt more centered, more confident in his abilities.

_‘Thnx, Jeff owe u big.’_

_JDM: Next chance you get, I want your ass up here. We’ll settle up then. ;)_

_‘Give Gus a kiss from me. n Hil'_

_JDM: Will do. Now get back to work!_

_‘Asshole. :)’_

Lifting himself up from the small nest, Norman straightened his clothes the best he could, and stretched out his limbs. Well, as far as they could be stretched in this confined space.

Gathering up Jeffrey’s jacket, and shoving it back into the bag, Norman firmed his jaw, and took one last deep breath. Time to go back to work.

\---

_C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…! Fucking load!_

Norman ground his teeth together as he stared at the blue screen of his laptop, watching the loading dots circle around slowly. Every cycle just made his heart constrict, one less moment he could be spending talking to his family.

His fingers tapped beside the track pad, then frantically rubbed his finger across the pad to make sure his computer had not frozen. It didn't.

 _Pleeeease, I've been waiting for_ hours!

Norman sank deeper into his bed, burying himself within the massive piles of pillows he brought from home. It wasn't really a nest, but it did fill up the emptiness of his bed. Though he wished he didn't bring so many blankets, making him turn the air conditioner full blast to make use of them.

Huh? Not using all the blankets at once and not waste AC? Ridiculous. He brought blankets and he was going to use them.

It was while he was pestering the pillows that he heard the sound of Skype fully booting up, making him almost jump out of his skin. _Yes!_ His eyes flicked to the contacts, staring at multiple green, yellow and red dots. God damn it, did he change his nickname again? Decide on a goddamn title and stick with it!

But before he could even find it, a chat box popped up.

_EasyRiderJDM: Norm! How's the weather down there? Sunny with a side of Alpha’s kicked asses?_

Heaving a long sigh that he probably had been holding in all day, Norman situated his pillows to lay beside him. Curled up in the nest back home.

 _NormInTheDark: I wish. n_ ever _go down to Georgia. Its too hot and wet and sticky and I sweat off like 6 pounds._

_EasyRiderJDM: Lol. Poor bby._

_NormInTheDark: Hey its goddamn awful down here half the zombies sweat off their makeup in minutes_

_EasyRiderJDM: And that's why SPN is up in Toronto!_

_NormInTheDark: O fuck u, ur up with the boys?_

_EasyRiderJDM: Hell, no. You really think Hilarie is going to let me go six feet out the door?_

Norman snorted, barely noticing how the sound bounced off the empty walls and echoed back. Hilarie was such a darling, and she had Jeffrey wrapped around her finger. Had been that way since they met. She was probably the most Alpha Omega he had ever met.

Halfway through responding, another message popped up.

_EasyRiderJDM: Hey, I was going to head back to the nest. I'm assuming you want to see the pack?_

_NormInTheDark: fuck ya I do_

As the chat went silent, Norman yanked himself free of the bed and flicked on some lights, to make sure that it looked like he wasn't just sitting in the dark curled up and hiding from the world like he really was. Chances are Jeff had already told Hilarie about the Alpha incident, and he hoped he didn't have to go through the story again.

He already had to explain the scene concept to Jeffrey after he read the new script. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Hilarie with his own troubles. Even if she will never admit it, motherhood was tiring her.

Halfway through trying to clean up his room and make it look half decent, because they _totally_ will know that there were things on the floor, his laptop started chiming.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Norman hissed softly to himself as he worked himself free from the clothes around his ankles, clumsily stepping his way back to the laptop. Brushing down his shirt to make himself look slightly proper, he glanced at the screen and smiled at the message.

_INCOMING CALL FROM: EasyRiderJDM_

_DO YOU ACCEPT?_

_YES        NO_

Slamming down that yes button, the bed was still shaking from his body being thrown onto the covers, scrambling to burrow himself within the blankets again.

The call connected moments later, and of course, everything was just a few blocks of pixels. Barely holding down a whine, he shifted the laptop onto his lap, trying to line up the camera with himself as best as he can.

At first, there wasn't even sound, just the blocks jolting around. Only once Norman could swear he was about to throw his laptop out the window, some sound leaked through.

_“-re you there, Norman?”_

Jeffrey's voice. God, it had only been maybe a few days but hearing that voice… It just about made him tear up.

“Y-yeah, I can hear you. Can you hear me?”

The pixels still refused to settle on an image, only testing his patience further. They broke into better shapes, and he could make out the vague silhouettes of Hilarie and Jeffrey, but not much more. Jeffrey shifted out of sight to adjust the camera.

“The wifi here is _shit_ ,” Norman growled softly to himself, hearing Jeffrey chuckle in return.

After another staggering pause, the screen finally cleared, and Norman almost lost his careful control over his emotions. After all the shit, all the worrying, all the stress, all the _Alphas_ … Seeing his nest and his pack within it almost made him cry.

He could tell that Hilarie had woken up from a nap, with her hair sticking out at odd ends and her eyes blurry. Norman could see that she was wearing one of his sweatshirts, the shoulders too wide that it hung on her.

Once she managed to catch sight of him, though, her entire face lit up _. “Normie! How was your first day, sweetheart?”_

Norman almost didn't hear her question, as he instead focused on the small bundle curled up within her arms, wrapped in random blankets. Gus. He was asleep, and he could just barely see the fuzz of his hair through the opening, being curled up tightly to Hilarie’s chest.

His lungs burned with his attempt to take in the scents, only for him to exhale in bitter disappointment. They were still hundreds of miles away in New York. Hundreds and hundreds. And he was still here. In Atlanta.

 _“What's wrong, sweetie?”_ Hilarie soothed, a warm shiver riding up his spine at her sweet voice.

“There was like… a dozen fucking Alphas,” Norman sighed loudly, only to bite his tongue as Hilarie quickly covered Gus’s ears, even as the pup was still deep in sleep. “Sorry. A dozen _flipping_ Alphas.”

_“Alphas are meanies.”_

Jeffrey laughed at Hilarie's choice of words, as she had been completely focused on ensuring that there would be no swearing around the pup.

_“But Hil, what about me?”_

“Don't push it, Jeffrey. We both know she'll take you down.”

Hearing the two laugh managed to help his lips twitch into a light smirk, only to see Hilarie's face fall. She was squinting at the camera, leaning in closer, then immediately sharp gold flashed her vision.

 _“Norman, what happened to your neck? Did they_ hurt _you?”_

Her voice was sharp, much sharper than Norman had been expecting, but she was the mother hen of the nest. If there was even a hair out of place, she needed to know the reason why. “S’nothing. Just a little bruise from the scene we shot today.”

Hilarie frowned. _“Norman. Are they being nasty to you? Pushing you around?”_

He laughed, and completely ignored her question. “God, I miss you guys. I didn’t think it would be this bad. I’ve been away before.” Norman lowered his head, and stared at his fingers. “Just seems different this time.”

 _“Don’t think I don’t know what you just did there, Mister Reedus. Don’t change the subject.”_ Her voice softened somewhat, and she smiled at the screen. _“We miss you, too, of course. Maybe we can come down and see you. See this amazing show you’ve been talking about.”_

Jeffrey made his way into the frame, and curled up behind Hilarie, one of his large hands moving to brush against the top of his son’s head. He nuzzled his face into Hilarie’s neck, and rumbled quietly. Hilarie flushed, and her eyes turned a darker shade of gold.

Huffing quietly, Norman sulked into the bed. “I can see you guys are busy. Guess I’ll just go. Be all alone. In this strange apartment. In this strange town. In this strange state.”

Peeking out from behind his Omega’s hair, Jeffrey smirked. _“Quit being so dramatic, Norman. Call Ming. You and I both know checking on him will make you feel better.”_

“You’re probably right.”

 _“Aren’t I always?”_ Jeffrey drawled. _“Call your kid, then go to bed. I’m sure you didn’t sleep much last night.”_

Norman nodded, already feeling better at the prospect of talking to his son. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

 _“Night, Norman,”_ Hilarie said, lifting up Gus’ tiny arm to wave at the camera. _“Gus says good night, too!”_

Norman smiled and blew them a kiss as he hit the end call button. Quickly pulling up Mingus’ information he hit call.

No answer. That was odd. He was always on this time of night. Fresh out of the bathtub, and smelling like autumn leaves, and clover.

Reaching for the phone he’d set on the nightstand, he texted his son.

_‘Hey tried to get u for our nightly skype chat, and got no answer. Wru?’_

A couple minutes of watching the screen later, the reply came.

_Ming: Sorry, Dad. Mom had to go to Spain for some big project. Said I could come since we’re out of school right now. Cool right? =D_

Norman smiled, even though the knowledge that Mingus was even farther away than he’d thought wasn’t exactly welcome. He knew Helena would take good care of him, and he’d have a blast. Spain was amazing.

_‘Sounds awesome dude. Tell ur mom to bring me back some turron. That shit is delicious.’_

_Ming: HA! You owe me 5 bucks, dad!_

_‘It doesnt count in text!’_

_Ming: I asked mom, she says it does. 2 against 1._

_‘Im gonna go broke.’_

_Ming: Probably, but if you need a loan, I’ve got some extra cash. ;p_

Barking out a laugh, Norman took a ten dollar bill out of his wallet and laid it on the bed. Snapping a quick picture, he sent it off to Mingus.

Smirking to himself, he typed, _‘Here, 10 bucks fr next time I fuck up. o look, it happened so quickly!’_

_Ming: You’re nuts, dad. Mom says I need to try and sleep some. It’s like 3 in the morning here! Love you!_

Norman’s chest tightened. _‘Get some sleep, kiddo love you too'_

Putting the phone back on the nightstand, Norman looked around his bedroom. The walls were completely blank, and it was entirely too silent. Hauling his laptop back to him, he opened up one of his playlists, and lay down in his puddle of blankets. He lay there and listened to music, letting his mind wander. Sometime around 1am, his eyes closed, Eric Clapton singing him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Wanna talk to us? Jer's got a Twitter! @ZeroKiryuu167 and he may eventually just get a new Twitter with a name that actually is his name. Never know.


	3. The Scent that Drove him Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norman and Andrew finally face off. ...Or rather, almost.

_ 'So, im gonna be late to set’ _

_ Kirkman: At least you're still coming in. Can I ask why? Did they trigger a heat? I apologise profusely if they did. _

_ 'No u bag of dicks that fucking dickhole broke my neck u piece of prejudiced shit, why tf does it always have to be something the Omega did? How about fuck u and fuck all the Alphas and suck my dick- _

Norman quickly deleted that text before he was tempted to actually send it.

_ 'I think Jon threw out my neck or something. I can barely move my head. Im not paralyzed tho so Ill be fine.’ _

Not bothering to look at whatever message Kirkman was going to reply with, Norman tossed the phone down to his side, careful to keep it within reach. He had been staring at the very same speck of ceiling for the past hour. It was a dirty speck. How do ceilings get dirty? Didn't dirt fall down?

This had been his mental state since he had woken up at five AM, having not been able to sleep well without feeling his pack by his side. When he had tried to get up to go get another piece of the pack that he brought with him, he could have sworn that his head must have been nearly decapitated with how much pain he was in.

That had led to panic and a desperate internet search to see if he was paralyzed. When he learned that he could move the rest of his body with ease and that it was just his neck, he realized that being put in a chokehold was not the best idea. Especially not when he had been struggling still, but Norman refused to take the blame for that.

He wouldn't have fought if the Alphas hadn’t gotten their damn hands on him.

Now it was close to eight and he still hadn't moved. His phone buzzed once, then twice, but he ignored it. If it wasn't someone important, he wasn't getting up. Hell, even if it was the president, he could wait.

But now Norman was regretting not taking a leak before he went to bed…

Instead of thinking about how the hell he was going to get out of this mess, he let his thoughts continue to wander.

How do you clean a ceiling? Do rich people hire people to wash their ceilings? Do people make money just from washing ceilings? Is that a career choice? Would you charge by square foot or by hour? Wouldn't everything drip onto the carpet? Then did they need to clean the carpet?

Did  _ he  _ need to clean his carpets?

\---

“I'm  _ so _ sorry, man, I didn't mean to  _ actually _ choke you out.”

Norman just barely held back the urge to roll his eyes at the Alpha standing in the entrance of the makeup trailer. This was the sixth time Jon had attempted to apologize, and every time Norman had said he knew the other man hadn’t done it on purpose, but  _ damn _ , Jon wouldn't leave him alone.

“S’alright. So long as I don't die, we're good,” Norman said through a mouthful of a chocolate bar, popping in another square as he spoke. He had brought something to eat with him, hoping to save it for later, but the chocolate was already started to melt. Couldn’t let it go to waste.

The ice cubes were melting as well. Even with them all tucked into the towel wrapped around his throat. Water was beginning to leak all the way down his chest.

Jon didn't seem to take the forgiveness to heart, not with the way he ducked his head and looked away. Norman’s lips almost twitched into a scowl but he managed to catch himself. He wasn't some prissy Omega who had to have their nails done every time one got chipped.

Hell, if it hadn't been for yesterday, no one would even  _ know. _

That opportunity was long gone, though, and so was more than half of the chocolate bar. Staring at the wrapper with unnecessary mourning, he sighed loudly.

“Are you sure? Did you want the nurse to come check it out? I'll go get him,” Jon pleaded, and even though Norman was quite happy with how the Alpha was at the beck and call of an Omega, it was still getting annoying.

“Nurse cleared me. It just got stiff while I was asleep. We're good.”

“I could get you more ice!”

Norman could feel his eye twitching. This Alpha needed to get the  _ fuck  _ away from him, and soon. If it wasn't by his own choice, then Norman would not hesitate to make it much less voluntary.

“Listen, how many times do I gotta say that I'm  _ fine? _ I'm not a goddamn princess,” Norman sighed loudly, rubbing an open palm across his sweaty face.

“Well of course not, but you're an-”

“Jon, Kirkman wants you on set. He's got a script change.”

Having been about ready to spring out of the chair and gouge out Jon’s throat, hearing a slightly familiar voice made the hair on the back of his neck lie flat again. The other Alpha. Uh… Andrew?

Watching from the corner of his eyes as Jon stepped away from the doorway, he had just been about to relax when a whiff of scent from the other Alpha hit him. His fingers clenched the slightest bit on the arms of the chair.

With his head tilted to the side and a grin on his face, Andrew said, “I'm sorry about him. He's… He worries.”

“I swear to God if anyone tells me  _ sorry  _ one more time,” Norman muttered under his breath, sinking into his chair as the makeup artist came back with the products to properly mess with his hair and begin to apply some zombie gore.

Dipping his head, Andrew nodded. “I'll skip that part, then.”

Huffing, Norman barely held back a wince as the artist took the towel from around his neck. It left his skin an angry red from the cold, making it look much worse than it actually was. He even caught Andrew flinching. Great. Now he was going to have Alphas watching his every move to make sure their new playtoy didn't get hurt.

Andrew hovered uncertainly around Norman’s chair for a moment. Long enough for Norman to take in his scent fully for the first time. The other man smelled like clean linen, and something crisp. Rain maybe. The way it smelled right before a big storm.

As subtly as he could, Norman took another deep breath. His abdomen clenched, and his fingers curled around the armrests of his chair so hard they went white.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Andrew sat down in the other chair, the second makeup artist moving in close, and hovering over the other man.

A small ripple of possessiveness worked its way up Norman’s spine, and he tamped it down viciously. No fucking way. Not on set.  _ Never _ on set. No matter  _ how _ good his coworker smelled.

\---

Running a weary hand through his hair, Norman walked back to his motorcycle, and reached for his helmet. Before he could tug the thing on though, he tensed, inhaling deeply, and looked over his shoulder. Andrew.

“Norman!” Andrew called from a few feet away before jogging over. “A few of us were going to head out to a little bar in town, and have a couple drinks. Celebrate the end of the week. You coming?”

Whining slightly, Norman debated with himself. He had been planning on going home, and texting Mingus. With a slight wince, he mentally chastised himself. Spain, remember? Time difference. Even though he had been on set for days now, Mingus was still up in Spain, and it sounded like he might be there for the entire  _ summer.  _

He looked at his watch. 6pm in Georgia meant it was midnight in Barcelona. Helena would have a stroke if he called, and woke Mingus up. Jeffrey had called him earlier that day and told him about the plans he had made to surprise Hilarie, so nothing there either.

“Yeah,” Norman decided. “Yeah, I got nothin’ to get home to.”

He got directions from Andrew, the man pulling him uncomfortably close, and drawing directions onto the back of his hand with a sharpie. He was so close, he could move his head a fraction of an inch, and have his nose buried in Andrew’s hair. Investigate the scent that had caused such an alarming sensation back in the makeup trailer.

He was so focused on drawing in more of that amazing scent that he didn’t even realize his eyes were closed until Andrew released his hand, and when Norman opened them he found himself staring into the bluest, most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

Blushing, Norman backed away, and shoved his helmet down onto his head. “I’ll meet you there,” he said, hoping the words weren’t too muffled. Not waiting for a response, Norman started the bike, revving it several times before glancing back at Andrew. He was still standing in the same spot. The sharpie was dangling from his fingers, and a bemused smile lingered on his face.

“Looking forward to it,” he thought Andrew said. The motorcycle was a bit too loud to hear over, and the helmet certainly didn’t help matters.

Norman nodded, and, revving the bike once more, sped out of the parking lot.  

\---

Norman had no idea why he was actually excited to go to the bar. Maybe the excitement was actually the chicken sandwich he got from that sketchy diner not agreeing with him, but it  _ could  _ be excitement.

He was not much of a bar person. Jeffrey would drag him along from time to time when he would go out to meet some friends. That actually was how they had met Hilarie: the blind date Jensen had set up. A few drinks later and the next day, she was in their nest. It turned out to be a pretty good date night. For Jeffrey anyway. Norman’s own date… That had ended almost before it had begun, as Jensen made the mistake of bringing a  _ female  _ Alpha.

In the end, Norman went home with Jensen, and Jeffrey and Hilarie fucked up his nest. Which he eventually forgave them for. Hilarie was too sweet to stay mad at for long.

What he hated about bars was being left alone. When the Alphas who had been watching from afar would take their chances. Most of the time, that ended with a kick to the nuts or a punch to the jaw, but then there were the other times.

Times they'd use their Alpha voice.

He didn't go alone anymore. But he would be slightly breaking that rule tonight.

After sending off a text to Jeffrey to let him know that he was going out, more to make sure that  _ someone  _ knew where he was, there had been time for a quick shower and a change of clothes.

He says quick like it was actually quick. The crap they used in his hair took about three different rinses to get out, and he was completely drenched in sweat. Not very attractive to the rest of the cast. Like he gave a damn. Just a few more weeks and he would go home with a story to tell of how he had hidden in a wardrobe trailer.  _ Again. _

Once properly dressed in a black button up shirt and dark jeans, he grabbed his helmet and took off.

It would have been smart to write down the directions on an actual sheet of paper  _ before _ he had showered, but for the most part, it was legible. He still got lost, though. By the time he did manage to find his way to the bar, he recognized just about every car in the lot from the ones he had seen on set.

Of course Norman would be the last one here. It had been that way from the start.

Locking his helmet down and taking in a few breaths of crisp air, the last breaths before he would be overcome with the bar scents, he choked up any confidence he could muster and walked through the door.

The bar wasn’t that bad. It wasn't one of those club places with blaring music. It seemed to be mostly a sports bar. There were big screen televisions up on the wall, random jerseys, and sports memorabilia. Things like that. It wasn't crowded, as it was perhaps a quarter after seven. The heavy drinkers wouldn't be here until later, he hoped. Oddly enough, the smells were not overwhelming. He could  _ just _ pick out the scent of food over the even mixture of Alpha and Beta.

As he stood clueless in the doorway, trying to spot a face he could  _ slightly  _ recognize, someone called his name.

“Hey, Norman!”

Turning his head sharply towards the sound, Norman's immediate hostile reaction was dampened by the smaller figure making his way over to him. It was Glenn. Or, rather, his actor.

Hell, there was no way he was going to remember all these names, not after shouting 'chinaman’ and such all day.

His confused look must have given him away, because the other man grinned, and shook his head good naturedly.

“Steven. Otherwise known as Glenn, walker killer extraordinaire!”

His shoulders loosened with his words, the inherent awkwardness easing away. It won a soft smirk on his face, and Norman took a few steps to meet him. “Norman. Otherwise known as Daryl, the hick with a crossbow,” he chuckled, a friendly warmth spreading through him.

“Nice to meet you. So…” The smaller man widened his grin, mischievousness obvious. “You’re pretty big for an Omega,” Steven said, leaning a little bit into Norman’s space, like he was trying not to be overheard.

At first, all Norman did was blink. It wasn't the first time someone told him that. And usually it was followed by an attempt at seduction. But… Norman doubted that was his intent. Trying to be subtle, he took in a deeper breath, letting it fill his lungs.

Nope. The Beta didn't seem to be interested. Good.

Working the smirk into a smile, Norman leaned in just a bit more. “Pretty small for a Beta. Aren't you supposed to be able to pin me? Won't be doing much of that.”

Steven laughed, and clapped Norman on the back, the ice now officially broken. “Nah, I’m not into that kinda stuff. Not like those guys over there.” He tilted his chin in the direction of a small table towards the back of the bar. “Those two may not look it, but they’re Alpha through and through.”

Glancing to where Steven was looking, the smile turned into a mischievous smirk. It was Andrew and Morgan's actor. Norman would later remember him as Lennie, but he was  _ still  _ awful at names, after all. “I bet I can take 'em. Andrew at least. He's pretty small.” Well, at least compared to his Alphas. Then again, almost  _ anyone  _ was small compared to them.

“I don’t know. Don’t they have that voice thing? Can’t they just order you around?” Steven looked uncomfortable. “Sorry, been awhile since I took that class in high school. I don’t really remember a whole lot.”

Norman blinked. A class? They teach that shit in schools now? Hell, it used to be just ask your parents and maybe get a third of the info you needed. If you were an Omega, you got a booklet from the nurse after you suddenly went into heat and had to hide in the nurse's office until a parent could take you home.

“At least you got a fucking class. I would have killed to get a fourth of what I needed to know, especially about Omegas.”

“Oh yeah. Everyone was required to take it. ‘Alphas, Betas and Omegas: A Practical Guide to Embracing Your Second Gender.’” Steven looked back at Norman, and laughed at what he presumed was the dumbfounded look plastered across his face. “Yes, it was just as stupid and cliche as it sounds.”

Norman couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. “They need to just figure out a fucking test already. So you don't gotta grow up afraid to be an Omega.” Sighing softly, Norman rubbed his face, his eyes flicking back to the two Alphas across the bar.

“The Alpha voice was like a primitive way to make your pack do what you want it to do. Using the voice on another Alpha is like challenging their position as leader. Using it on Betas is like an order. On Omegas…” Norman shrugged. “It gets fucked up. It's hard to resist, especially if you're not bonded or mated. Even  _ worse _ if you're unclaimed.”

Norman's nose wrinkled at the word 'claimed’. He had of course been claimed more than few times. He had several Alphas, after all, helping him get through his rare heats. Even if it wasn't just for sex, it helped provide a resistance to other Alphas with his scent changing.

“I’m glad I’m a Beta,” Steven said, looking up at Norman. “Seems like all the other shit you guys have to deal with is a pain in the ass.”

“A literal fucking pain in the ass,” Norman smirked, enjoying the view of Steven’s rapidly reddening face. Reaching out, Norman gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You wanna be my wingman while I go beat up some Alphas? All you gotta do is pick up their teeth off the ground.”

Steven’s mouth dropped open, and he stammered, “Are you serious? You’re not really gonna…” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed, looking toward Andrew and Lennie anxiously.

“Gotta prove dominance and all that shit. Then I don't gotta worry about any of the other Alphas thinking I'm only good for breeding.” Perhaps Norman was getting ahead of himself, but he had learned a  _ long  _ time ago that he had to make an impression as soon as possible, and make that impression stick.

“I don’t really think I need to be a part of this. I’m just a fucking Beta. I’ll uh… I’ll go to the bar and get you a beer to quench your thirst when you’re done, how’s that?”

“You’re the best wingman yet.” Flashing a smile back at Steven, even as the other man paled considerably, he stepped past him and began to weave his way through the crowd. A bar almost always became a fighting ring if there were Omegas around. It was almost impossible not to with the amount of Alpha hormones that would  _ constantly _ coat the bar.

Glancing one last time at Steven, who had not moved from his frozen position, Norman looked back to the two Alphas. He would take on Andrew, first. In muscle mass, Norman was almost twice his size.

It should be easy.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get used to the weather over here. I swear, it never gets this bloody hot in London.”

...and then it wasn't easy anymore.

Norman froze mid-step, a fist squeezing at the inside of his chest. Not only at the  _ sound _ of the words, but the  _ accent.  _ Andrew was fucking  _ British. _

_ Fuck _ .

Trying to suck in a breath to steady his nerves only ended with him inhaling even more of Andrew's scent. Against his better judgement, he let it fill his lungs. Andrew had taken a shower before coming here, but the smell of expensive shampoo wasn't quite enough to blot out his crisp scent. It was even more powerful now than it was just an hour ago.

Norman tried to swallow, but his throat was ablaze. Hell, everything was burning. It was a hard scorching, his nerves tingling, and Andrew's scent only made that sensation spread. His entire body felt like it was melting, then came the urge to just  _ pounce _ .

That urge was coupled with an intense heat pooling in his groin, an erection straining against the zipper of his jeans, and a sudden empty ache that he just  _ had  _ to fill.

“Hey.”

Norman blinked, looking through hazy eyes at the man now standing in front of him.

“Norman? You look sort of… Jesus, I don’t know. Are you okay?” Steven asked, concern shining in his dark eyes. “Do you want a water or something? You’re sweating.”

The breath pulled into Norman's lungs was more of a heave than anything else, but all he could smell was  _ that scent. _ He couldn't smell the beer, or the smoky-pine scent that coated the bar. All he could smell was some twisted mixture of his own scent, what he now realized was his own  _ slick _ , and  _ Andrew. _

Then there was a telltale burning in his eyes. The gold was bleeding through and drenching the blue. His mouth dropped, a desperate attempt to try to tell Steven that he needed to do  _ something. _ Either attack the Alpha or leave.

But talking would take too much time.

His own heated state left him hyper aware of the amount of bodies that were sitting at tables, in booths, on stools. Of the  _ dozens  _ of Alphas. Flashing his golden eyes around him, he caught the numerous sets of reddening eyes, all burning into his body. There was a low rumbling of Alpha growls before chairs began to scratch against the wood.

There were too many. He needed to leave.

Without so much as a sound leaving his lips, Norman whipped his body around and pushed his way through random bar attendees. Other scents were starting to fight their way to his mind, their intent clear.

Alphas. Fight for the Omega. Claim the Omega. 

Claim.

_ Leave. _

The door had not even properly closed by the time Norman had sprinted to his bike. He was in such a blind panic that any thoughts of his own safety or common sense were banished as his tires screeched against the pavement. The long, black marks and the lingering smell of burned rubber were the only sign that he had been there at all.


	4. Supernatural Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It might not be heat, but DAMN. Norman needs something in his ass. With Jeffrey busy, though, it's time to get a little help from the rest of the pack.

How Norman made it home, he would never know. He barely remembered making it up the steps to his apartment. His breath was fast, like he’d had just sprinted a mile, his legs were weak, and his head felt stuffed with cotton.

His eyes were nearly glowing gold at this point, and several times he’d wanted to just dump his bike and find an alley to jerk off in, but something kept him from doing so. Norman needed a safe place. Where no Alpha he didn't trust could find him.

Staggering into his apartment, he slammed the door behind him and leaned into it, trying to catch his ever-escaping breath. 

No, too hot, too hot, can't breathe. Clothes too tight. Clothes need  _ off. _

_ Need. _

Glassy eyes cracked open just as one of his shaking hands tried to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt, and darted around his dark apartment. He needed his Alpha. Needed to be fucked. Needed to be claimed.

His hand still scratching at the buttons, he pressed the other against the wall to help guide himself down the hall to the bedroom. He knew his laptop was there. Never let it leave his room.

Norman swallowed hard as he stared at the mess of blankets and pillows, now wishing to have them replaced with warm, moving bodies. Surrounding him, touching him… He had torn through the first few buttons of his shirt, and it gaped open as he pulled the laptop closer, fumbling to get onto the bed and collapsing.

His teeth ground together as he watched Skype try to load. Every second that ticked by that he couldn't see who was online was another second for the sensation of the erection pressing against the denim of his jeans and the ever-growing amount of slick dampening them combining to drive him crazy. The feeling of being so wet was making him shiver, and he bit down onto his knuckle to keep from voicing out a moan.

Load, load, load,  _ load…! _

Norman could have orgasmed when he saw the list of names that appeared on the page, and with no hesitation, he clicked on Jeffrey's profile. He needed his Alpha. Needed his attention. Needed his knot inside of him. Needed to be  _ filled. _

But the monotone ringing continued. Far past the normal three it took for him to pick up. Only after several failed calls did he remember Jeffrey’s plans to take Hilarie out for a much needed date.

Groaning his frustration, it took everything he had not claw open his pants anyway. No, he had more than one Alpha. Any of them would do. Just  _ please…! _

It took three tries to successfully move the pointer to the row of names, seeing the green light beside all three. Just… just pick. Whimpering softly, Norman squeezed his eyes shut and clicked on one of the three names, his chest still heaving with every heavy breath he tried to force into his lungs.

Ring…

Ring…

Ri-

“ _ Well, well, who do we have here? Mr. Zombie killer! Like I haven’t been doing that shit for years now. _ ”

Waiting for the screen to clear, Norman moaned quietly, clamping a hand around his midsection. His nails scratched at the fabric trapping in the heat. “Jensen…”

“ _ Norm? You okay?” _

He heard a clatter in the background, and Jensen yelling, “ _ Misha, get your ass in here, something’s wrong with Norman _ !”

The screen finally cleared, and Norman saw Jensen staring intently at him from where he sat on the couch, his eyes worried. Misha rounded the corner seconds later, a toothbrush sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“ _ What’s going on?” _ he said, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth, and licking off the small bits of white foam around his lips.

Jensen gestured to the screen, and said, “ _ Norman. Something’s up.” _

Misha dropped to his knees in front of the laptop, and grinned. That huge grin that he reserved only for his closest friends, and people he considered family. It made Norman’s chest tighten, and he thought of himself cuddling a toddler with Misha’s smile, and laughing blue eyes.

_ God,  _ he needed someone to breed him!

_ “Normiekins!” _ Misha yelled, his grin ratcheting up a notch. _ “Come to Vancouver so I can snuggle you! Vicki went home to get ready for West to come.” _

Angling his face so the low light in the apartment would highlight his eyes, Norman widened them fractionally, and saw comprehension dawning over his Alpha’s faces.

Jensen smirked, and elbowed Misha so he could crowd into the frame.  _ “Looks like someone needs to be knotted, Mish. What do you think?” _

Nodding his head, Misha grinned wickedly.  _ “I think you’re right.” _ Misha raised an eyebrow and stared into the camera.  _ “Is Jensen right, Norman? Need someone to fuck you?” _

Moaning, Norman nodded his head frantically. He licked his dry lips and said, “Guy I work with. Never got his scent properly before, I guess, and it just fucking happened. Need it. Need something inside me. Please.”

Misha nodded, standing up, and sitting beside Jensen on the couch. He fiddled with the laptop for a moment, adjusting it’s position, before setting it back down, and asking,  _ “Can you see us both?” _

“Yeah, yeah, I can see both of you.”

They were sitting on the couch, pressed together from knee to shoulder, and he was pretty sure they were both hard, through the shadows made it difficult to tell. Norman felt his nostrils flare, instinctively searching for the scents of the two men, and he groaned in disappointment when he couldn’t find them.

_ “Wanna scent us, huh, Norm?” _ Jensen asked, his hand moving down his chest to palm over, what Norman hoped, was his erection.  _ “Get your nose into my neck, and maybe bite a little, while you do it?” _

Unable to wait any longer, Norman ripped open the button fly on his jeans, not even noticing the small pinging noise as one of them ripped off and struck the lamp on his nightstand.

Letting out a sigh of relief as he wrapped his fingers around his cock, Norman looked back at the screen. Jensen was nudging Misha, and laughing. 

_ “That is so not an Omega cock. Look at that thing! That’s Alpha sized.” _

Misha squinted at the screen, and shook his head.  _ “Not quite. Almost, but not quite.” _

_ “Oh c’mon, man. Just admit it.” _

Glaring at the other man, Misha poked him in the chest with his finger.  _ “I think there is something more pressing we need to deal with right now.” _ He glanced at the screen, and lowered his voice,  _ “He wouldn’t have called if he didn’t need us, you know.” _

Norman nodded at the screen. “I do. I do need you.” His voice had turned into a croak, every syllable forced from his tightening throat. He wanted his voice to be raw from screaming, until the entire apartment complex learned the names of his Alphas.

_ “See,” _ Misha said, triumphant grin on his face.  _ “We can talk about how your dick is smaller than Norman’s another time.” _

_ “Hey! It is not!” _ Jensen yelled, his hands going to the fastenings of his jeans.

Misha looked at the screen and gave Norman a small wink, and Norman couldn’t help but laugh. Misha was a master at getting people to do whatever the hell he wanted without them realizing a damn thing.

Jensen reached into his boxers and drew out his cock, looking at Misha with a smirk.  _ “See? Bigger than Norman’s.” _

Rolling his eyes, Misha patted Jensen on the leg, and looked back to the screen.  _ “You’re so right, Jen. Wow, I’m so impressed.” _

Looking away from the bickering men on his laptop screen, Norman stripped his soaked jeans down to just below his knees, and rolled over onto his stomach. Running a hand down the back of his thigh, his eyes widened. He’d never gotten so wet in such a short period of time before. Not even the time Jeffrey had gone into rut, and Hilarie had needed backup. That had been a hell of a week. 

Norman reached over to the drawer on the nightstand and drew out the present Jeffrey had given him before he flew down to Georgia. It was a dildo, but a special one. There was a button on the bottom that triggered a knot to grow on the base. Norman shuddered at the thought.

Glancing back to the screen, he saw Misha and Jensen now standing up, both with their dicks out, and arguing loudly about whether girth was more important than length, and  if how you used it was just as important as how big it was.

“I should have brought the dildo out and skipped the laptop,” Norman whined, his eyes on the screen. 

A loud chirp sounded from somewhere in the blankets that covered Norman’s bed, and he cursed. Setting down the dildo, he started searching through the blankets, looking for his phone. Finally finding it, he flipped to the new text message.

_ Jared: So, Jensen just texted me asking if length was better than girth, and seconds after that, I got one from Misha asking the opposite. They both said you wanted to know. ….What? _

Norman huffed, and brought up Jared’s name in his contacts, and pressed the button for facetime. A few seconds later Jared’s wide grin filled up his phone screen.

_ “Norman!” _

“You need to go over to Jensen’s place and smack the shit out of your friends,” Norman whined. “I called them and needed their help, because all this fucking slick and I’d never been so horny in my life, and all they’re doing is arguing about the size of their dicks, and I’m fucking  _ dying over here _ !”

He aimed that last sentence at the laptop screen, along with his best glare, startling the two men that were still holding onto their cocks and gesturing around.

_ “What?” _ Jensen asked, his hand falling away from his cock as he bent over until his face filled the frame. Misha shouldered his way in beside him, frowning.

_ “I’m sorry, Norman,” _ Misha said, sounding properly contrite, though Norman wasn’t about to forgive him so easily.  _ “We got distracted. You know how Jensen can be.” _ _  
_

_ “Hey! Asshole!” _

Norman sighed and moved his fingers to the trackpad on the laptop, and glared at the screen. “You did. I’m done.” He clicked on the end call button, and slammed the laptop shut.

_ “You okay, Norman?” _

Bringing the phone up to his face, Norman sighed. “Not really.” Rubbing a hand over his face, Norman winced at the stickiness of his fingers. Taking quick inventory over himself, he sighed in relief that the furious heat had dulled down to a low throb. Classic case of blue balls. “Shit. I need a shower. You gonna be home for a while?”

Jared nodded.  _ “Call me when you get out.” _

Norman agreed, and shut down the phone. Extracting himself from his bed, he stripped off his slick-drenched pants. He walked over to the shower, shedding layers as he went, leaving everything in piles on the tile floor.

Once he was in the shower, Norman lathered up his loofa and began scrubbing the slick off of his body. He thought about Jared as he did. Out of all the Alphas he associated with, Jared was the biggest. He was tall and broad, and had probably the best body Norman had ever seen. He also had the biggest heart. 

Behind that badass exterior, Jared was extremely sweet. Almost boyish. He was the one Norman went to when he needed to talk, and Hilarie wasn’t around. All of his Alphas were tactile with him, but with Jared it was less like a reflex, and more like a  _ need. _ Norman had been known to spend hours just snuggled up against Jared’s warm side, breathing in the other man’s scent.

Norman made sure to take his time in the shower, letting his body properly cool down from the sharp high, then immediate crash caused by his Alphas. Rinsing off the slick took time, and a bit more scrubbing than he had first anticipated. He hissed softly at the deep ache still within him, knowing it would only take a few seconds to get worked back up again.

Once his breathing evened out, he returned to rinsing off his body. Closing his eyes, Norman rested his forehead against the tile wall. He intentionally shut off the hot water first, letting the cold mercilessly beat against him until every ounce of heat in his body was down the drain, along with the water .

Grabbing a towel and running it across his body once he stepped out of the frigid shower, he spared a glance at the still slightly fogged mirror. The gold was almost gone. That shit took forever to leave, even after he was fucked senseless. He hoped that Jared wouldn't get the wrong idea.

Now he just felt… exhausted.

Curling the towel around his waist, he stepped back into his bedroom and stared at the black pants sitting on the ground. He could  _ see  _ the slick through the denim. Fuck.

“I just bought those,” Norman mourned softly as he kicked the pair of pants towards the trashcan in the bedroom.

Picking up the phone from atop the bed, he took a few quick glances at the texts that had invaded the screen.

Dick pics from both Jensen and Misha, arguing over which of their dicks were better, and enough dirty talk to make even Jeffrey blush. Norman just stared blankly at it and swiped away the messages.

Then one caught his eye. Melissa. He had been sure to take her number just in case he got lost on the way to the bar, and now she had left him a message. Feeling his stomach drop, he unlocked his phone just as he sat down on the bed, shifting carefully to avoid the smears of slick still on the blankets.

_ Melissa: Are you okay? _

_ Melissa: I saw you run out, and all the Alphas are losing their minds _

_ Melissa: They almost had to call the police _

_ Melissa: Steven said you were going to challenge Andrew? _

_ Melissa: Why would you do that, honey? You don't have to challenge anyone _

_ Melissa: Let me know that you're okay. I'd hate to think about what could happen out there. _

Norman hissed under his breath, guilt lancing into his chest. He had started a fucking war with the Alphas. Did Andrew notice what happened? Did he fight? Was the cast okay? Hell, he would be surprised if anyone  _ didn't  _ notice an Omega’s sudden scent change. It practically screamed,  _ ‘Mount me!’ _

_ 'Idk what happened. Just lost control. There was a scent that just fucked me over’ _

Even knowing that this was not a very good excuse, he sent it anyway, and followed up with -  _ 'I got home safe. Im just going to lay low to make sure I didn't trigger anything.’ _

Oh god, if he ended up accidentally triggering a heat… Triggering was the only way that he had heats ever since Mingus. He could go years at a time without a heat, just some irritation now and then. Like tonight.

But there were more important things. Was  _ Melissa  _ safe? She’d practically been thrown to the wolves.

_ ‘r u ok? Did they hurt you? Is anyone hurt?’ _

It surprised himself that he actually cared. But Melissa was delicate. She was a sweetheart. Practically a littermate already.

_ Melissa: I'm fine :) Me and Steven went home instead. The alphas scrimmaged a bit but it's all good _

Norman let out a soft breath of relief. She was fine. While he didn't care much for the alphas left behind, it was good that no one was hurt. That would only make filming take longer.

Closing the texting app, he popped up Skype moments later. Unsure just how he was going to handle this conversation, he started it off with a message.

_ NormInTheDark: Hey, just got out of the shower. Still there? _

_ MooseNotSquirrel: Yeah. Was waiting on you to call.  _

Seeing as that was just about as open as an invitation he could receive without plainly asking to call, he flicked to the Skype profile and clicked the green call button. It barely gave off one ring before Jared picked up.

_ “Hey. What's going on down there? Jen and Misha have been texting me like crazy.” _

Sighing softly at the concern in Jared’s voice, Norman slowly stretched out on the blanketed bed. His entire body was tired and all the energy was fleeing. If it hadn’t been barely been nine at night, he may have considered sleeping.

Setting the phone down right beside his head, Norman closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself in Jared's bed with him laying beside him. Just talking. “It's been a shitty few days on set. There's so many goddamn Alphas. I hid in the damn wardrobe trailer again.” Just like the first day he’d visited the Supernatural set with Jeffrey. Though that predicament ended much better than now.

Jared chuckled, and his voice deepened just a bit.  _ “I remember something about a wardrobe trailer. I seem to recall you had a pretty good time. Or was I reading the situation wrong?” _

The flush that crossed his face was one he quickly tried to hide, burrowing his face back into the blankets, and his gut twisted with the familiar ache that just wasn't going away. “Nah, think you got a good idea of what went down. Didn't work out the same this time. I, uh…” Norman hesitated. How much did he want to say? He didn't want to trigger Jared into coming all the way down from filming.

_ “Let's figure out what made you feel like you needed to go hide somewhere. Were the other actors not treating you well? Were you overwhelmed? Overstimulated?” _

Jared needed to stop being able read Norman so easily. He had not even started to tell the story, and he was sure Jared had a better understanding than he did. Letting out a long sigh, he curled his arm around the phone to pull it closer.

“Didn't tell them I was Omega. Probably a bad way to start. Everyone already knew each other. And my first scene was to get choked out by a couple Alphas.”

A disappointed sigh came across through the speaker.  _ “Yeah, Norman, that was probably a bad start. I've told you a million times, there is  _ nothing _ wrong with being an Omega. The whole choking thing? If they'd known, I'm sure they would have been more careful. Maybe explained exactly what was going to happen so you didn't… well, for lack of a better term, freak yourself out.” _

Norman let out a groan as he tugged at his blankets, a futile attempt to hide himself from the truth. “I don't wanna be treated different. Shouldn't have to be taken care of. I shoulda been  _ fine. _ But I went gold, and then he used the Alpha voice, and-”

_ “Wait a second. One of the actors. Someone you've known for all of a day, if that, used the  _ Alpha voice _ on you? What the fuck!?” _

He could hear Jared pacing and mumbling to himself through the phone. Jared was the most easy going out of all the Alphas Norman had ever associated with, but when he got angry… 

Norman instinctively flattened himself against the bed, squeezing his eyes shut just as a soft whimper managed to escape him. As soon as it slipped, he immediately tried to cover it back up. “I-I don't think he meant to… Please, don't tell Jeffrey, he'd rip his head off if he knew.”

Jared growled softly.  _ “I'm sorry, Norman, but that's just not fucking acceptable.” _

Shivering under the tone of the growl, Norman found himself sinking farther and farther into the blankets as if he could sink straight through the mattress. “The guy probably doesn't even know he did it,” he tried to reason.

_ “Norman, that's serious. He could have his whole contract voided for doing something like that. Even if you don't take it up to the bigwigs, something has to be done about it.”  _ Jared sighed, and when he spoke next, most of the anger was gone from his voice.  _ “I already sent the text. It had to happen.” _

Guilt rushed through his body as he let out another soft whine, an attempt to plead with Jared, but it was already done. Any second now, he was going to get a text from Jeffrey, and his date night with Hilarie would be ruined. Then he was going to get Andrew  _ fired.  _ The entire show would be ruined. Just because he complained.

“I don't want people to get in trouble! I just got a little spooked. He's a nice guy, I just…” Norman swallowed, trying to choke down the emotions that threatened to flood his body. He had only been here for a few days. He had  _ just  _ found a friend.

Now they were going to choose between their lead star and an extra who caused a scene and fucked up filming just because he was an Omega and couldn't control himself.

“Look, can we just… forget about it? I'm okay now. I swear. I'll… I'll send a dick pic or something.”

_ “Yeah, that's not going to work, and you know it. Hey, what time is it? Nineish?” _

Now completely confused by Jared's shift in the conversation but hoping to evade the topic of the Alphas, Norman glanced to his alarm clock. “Little after nine? Why?”

Jared chuckled. His rich tenor voice rasping pleasantly in Norman's ears.  _ “You'll see. I should probably let you go.”  _ Norman could  _ hear _ the smirk in Jared's voice.

“Shit. What did you do?” Norman asked, a creeping suspicion and wariness in his voice. Jared was always planning something. But it sounded like a good thing.

“Did you have someone bring me Eye in the Dark?” he suddenly asked, the excitement in his voice probably a bit too enthusiastic just to see his cat.

_ “I didn't do anything. I'm just an innocent bystander. One that will call you tomorrow to check up on you. Night night, Norm.  _ Sleep _ well.”  _

“Shit, Jared, did you have someone go through my drawers? Jeffrey already gave me something! I'm not that lonely that I need to bring my collection whenever I go somewhere!”

_ “ _ Good night,  _ Norman.”  _

With a click, Jared ended the call, causing Norman to flop back onto the bed and let out a loud whine. What the hell was he going to do now?

_ Knock knock knock. _

_ Shit. _

Looking down at himself, and the towel still wrapped around his waist, Norman waged a small battle in his mind to decide if he should bother actually putting on clothes. But hell. It was dark. No one knew where he lived anyway, and not a lot of people knew his face.

Heaving himself up from the bed, he tightened the towel around his waist and tried to ignore the prickling discomfort of facing whatever was on the other side of the door. Halfway across the living room though, Norman stopped dead in his tracks.

He hesitated, then took in a deep breath. Then another. A third just to make absolutely certain. Fire rushed through his veins and Norman suddenly lunged for the door. He fumbled to undo the numerous locks and then swung the door open.

Leaning back against the wall opposite his door, hands in his pockets and looking entirely too good for someone that had to have been in the air for several hours, was Jeffrey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess we are going to go Tuesdays and Fridays from now on! Let us know what you think, we absolutely LOVE hearing from you guys <3


	5. Claim Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeffrey has just the thing to take the pain away. At least the physical ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... We kinda cockblocked you last time.
> 
> So here you go :D
> 
> Don't get use to it though, still going to be scheduled from here on out. But we love you too much to deny some great fukin.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Norman forced out around the lump in his throat. His wide eyes stared at the bags that were around Jeffrey’s feet. Luggage. He turned his gaze back up to the Alpha, who only blinked at Norman's bewilderment.

“Hilarie said I should come. Said you needed me,” he said with a shrug. “Gonna invite me in?”

With the words just barely out of Jeffrey’s mouth, Norman took the few steps out into the hall, still mostly naked, and grabbed him by the leather jacket. The Alpha was yanked inside the apartment room with not a moment to spare, and the locks flicked down as soon as the door was shut.

Turning back to Jeffrey, Norman seemed to have forgotten everything else around him. About  _ why _ Jeffrey came. Because he was  _ here.  _ Unable to free up his voice to speak, he chose a more direct approach by closing the distance between their bodies. One hand grabbed at Jeffrey’s shoulder and the other slid in tight around his waist. Norman tucked his head beneath Jeffrey's, brushing his lips up against his neck. He took in a shuddering breath of his scent and let it fill his lungs to the brim, then exhaled it out in a partial sob.

It smelled like comfort. Even through the stink of airport, he could still scent it. The farm. The animals. He could smell Hilarie, and he could smell  _ Gus _ . While normally those scents would work to calm him, they weren’t working this time. Norman felt his heart begin to race, and he felt the beginnings of slick underneath his towel.

Letting loose a low rumble, Jeffrey's arms curled around him, squeezing tightly. He must not have caught the scent yet. “Guess she was right, huh?” He tilted his head a bit to try and look down at Norman. “I haven't seen you this worked up in years... What the hell happened down here, Norman? This isn't like you.”

Trying to contain the sobs that worked their way up his throat was near torture, and he only pressed himself harder into Jeffrey’s body, as if he could just disappear. “F-fucking Alphas… I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I'm going to get people fired. Because I'm an  _ Omega.” _

Jeffrey laughed. “I'm willing to bet that  _ if _ you were to get anyone fired, which I doubt, it wouldn't be because you're an Omega. It'd be because trouble seems to follow you around like a fucking puppy.”

Closing his eyes, Norman shook his head just slightly. “I-I keep going gold, and there was this scent that just fucking  _ wrecked  _ me. If I wasn't an Omega, it wouldn't have bothered me. I probably got every single Alpha within three blocks on edge. It  _ sucks.” _

“Then every Omega and Beta within three blocks owes you some chocolates,” Jeffrey grinned, his eyes twinkling. “I love that shit, it gets me all worked up. I think Hilarie likes it, too.”

Norman let out a hoarse laugh against Jeffrey's chest, his shoulders shivering with the unexpected humor. “Hil’s got enough shit from you, don't think I need to add to it. Remind me to thank her for letting you come down here. I know who the boss is around your house.” His eyes still closed, he pushed himself deeper against Jeffrey's neck, wishing to feel more skin on skin contact with his Alpha.

It was then that he felt Jeffrey take in a deep breath, then give a low rumble. Norman almost flinched, knowing that he had caught the scent of slick. It only made his heart pound harder at the rasping words Jeffrey spoke. “How about you show me around your apartment, Norman. I'm particularly interesting in seeing the bedroom,” he said, and one of Jeffrey’s hands carefully skimmed Norman's side.

Another shiver went through Norman’s body, and he couldn't suppress the soft purr that rumbled in the back of his throat.

“There's my kitten.”

“I ain't a pussy,” Norman grunted, trying to hide the crimson over his face by burying it within the leather jacket. “'m not a little cub anymore.” 

“You don't wanna be my little cub, huh? Have me take care of you? Make sure you're well fed and  _ satisfied?”  _ Jeffrey’s deep rumble still vibrated in his chest, even as he began to loosen his arms from around Norman. _ “ _ Maybe I should just go home then. I guess you don't need an old Alpha around here…”

Immediately, Norman's fingers tightened into Jeffrey's leather coat, to the point that he could have torn through. While an Alpha experienced more physical changes, like claws and teeth, Norman still knew how to use his nails. A soft whimper slipped from him, and he didn’t hesitate to press his entire body against Jeffrey's.

“Alpha, don't go,” he whined softly. The thought of Jeffrey walking out the door was just too much.

“My little cub after all, then. Need me to take care of you.” While he was speaking Jeffrey was slowly backing Norman down the hallway, where he thought the bedroom was.

“Be nice if you could focus for a minute here, Norman,” Jeffrey said, looking at the multiple doors in the hall. 

The idea of tearing his focus away from Jeffrey's scent or the heat of his body was nearly painful, and he let out another whine. “Last door on the left, s’open,” Norman said softly, his hand slipping off of Jeffrey's shoulder and fumbling with the zipper of his jacket. “Please, Alpha, I need you…”

Herding Norman down to the door he'd indicated, all the while working his jacket down his arms, Jeffrey let out a small growl when he made it into the bedroom. The smell of Norman's slick was thick in the air, and his eyes focused on the discarded pair of drenched pants. “Damn,” Jeffrey said, his nostrils flaring as he took in more of that scent, “You weren't fucking kidding, were you?”

Not waiting for a response, he pushed Norman back onto the bed, grabbing at the towel wrapped around his waist and jerking it away.

Jeffrey licked his lips at the picture Norman made. Laying back on the bed, legs spread obscenely, and his arms thrown over his head. Jeffrey looked his fill. From the soles of Norman's feet, past that mouthwateringly beautiful cock, up to the top of his messy head of hair.

“God Norman. I  _ love _ Hilarie and wouldn't trade her for anything in this world, but sometimes you just need a hard cock.” He licked his lips and growled as he said it, stalking towards Norman, his eyes never leaving Norman's quivering body.

Norman’s naked chest heaved as soon as he heard the growl, breaking out into panting already. He had been on the edge for what felt like hours. Constantly trying to cool his own body down, only to be met with more temptation. His eyes half lidded, he watched as Jeffrey prowled around him. He was Jeffrey's prey. And it was about time he was consumed.

“Miss your cock,” Norman panted, his voice already tight. “Fuck, Alpha, need it now!”

“Oh, you're definitely gonna get it, Norman. As much as you can take.” He ripped his shirt over his head, Norman's eyes catching and holding on Jeffrey's tattooed chest. “You're not gonna be able to move when I'm through with you.”

A groan rumbled in Norman's throat, the flush spreading down to his chest. All he wanted to do was to throw himself at Jeffrey, but he knew that Jeffrey got off on this, watching him squirm and struggle for his own control. He bit down onto his bottom lip, his eyes scanning up and down Jeffrey's muscular torso. All he wanted was to be pinned down, screeching his name while he was fucked mercilessly.

“Alpha…! Alpha, fuck me!” Norman moaned out, squirming as he could feel the slick starting to flow more rapidly. The intoxicating mixture of Omega slick and his Alpha’s scent was well on it's way to driving him mad. “Wanna be yours, mark me up, bite me!”

Jeffrey ran a hand down his midsection, licking his lips hungrily as he stared down at Norman. “You want it bad, don’t you?” he asked, his fingers toying with the button on his low-slung jeans. “Why don’t you show me how much you want it. Want to see you fuck yourself for me, sweetheart. Push those fingers into that greedy ass of yours, and show me how much you want my cock.”

Norman's fingers twisted into the bedsheet momentarily, the thought of fucking himself for Jeffrey's pleasure just too good. A rush of gold filled his blue eyes, followed by a soft moan. Fingers? Was he going to be allowed to use his new toy? The one Jeffrey had picked out just for him?

Fuck, didn't matter.

Huffing loudly, Norman adjusted himself on the bed, drawing his legs up so his feet were flat on the mattress, making sure his legs were spread wide. Hissing softly at the change of position, he leaned his head back into the plush blankets.

Closing his eyes, he untangled his hands from the blankets, and ran one hand ran down his muscular torso. His fingers trailed against his clenching muscles, before brushing against his hard cock. Letting out a soft gasp, he wrapped his fingers around the shaft.

“Ah, what’d I say?”

Whining softly, Norman unwrapped his fingers from around his twitching cock, and turned pleading golden eyes up to Jeffrey.

“Be a good boy, and you’ll get a reward.” Jeffrey grinned and lowered the zipper on his jeans, his dick immediately bulging out through the opening. “Don’t you want a reward, Norman?”

“W-wanna be good. Wanna be good for my Alpha-”

Norman's breathing almost stopped the moment that he saw that thick Alpha cock, his eyes practically glowing gold. Swallowing hard, he forced his fingers to move past his now leaking cock, then ran down his thigh. Already he could feel his slick. He vaguely wondered if Jeffrey would allow him to even sit up once they were done.

Following the path of the slick, he broke off in a groan when he touched his opening, and without shame, slipped in the first finger. Hell, the second followed quickly enough, sliding in and out of his body with ease, working in all the way to the second knuckle.

“God, that’s a beautiful sight,” Jeffrey moaned, his voice hoarse. “Look at me, Norman. See what you do to me?”

Lifting his head from where it had sunken into the bedcovers, Norman opened his eyes, and looked at Jeffrey. His Alpha had finished unzipping his jeans, and had pushed down the waist of the boxer briefs, freeing his cock. His head was lowered, and Norman could see his eyes glittering in the darkened room, the red ring in his irises just visible. 

Jeffrey’s hand moved to fist his dick, and he let out a stuttering moan. “Fuck, I haven’t done this in a while. Do you remember the last time we did this, Norman? When you fucked yourself open for me, and I got so hot from watching you I came all over myself? Then you crawled up my chest, and cleaned me up? That was a  _ damn _ good night.”

“Fuck yeah it was,” Norman groaned, his own strokes speeding up at the very thought. “God I've missed your cock, Alpha,” Norman grunted as his eyes locked onto Jeffrey's hand. Feeling his own slick against his fingers only made him want to add a third. It was a bit too fast, but after a wince he stretching himself out a little more, and let out a shaky sigh of relief.

But it still wasn't enough. He needed more than fingers, and his body ached for it as if it was more vital than oxygen.

“Fuck, Alpha, fuck me now!”

Growling deep in his chest, Jeffrey crossed the room in two long strides, yanking Norman off the bed, and pressing him up against the wall. He crowded in behind Norman, his cock smearing precome all over the small of his back. “You want it, now? Just like this? Pressed up against the wall, and begging for it?”

Norman moaned as he felt the tip of Jeffrey’s cock slide over the rim of his stretched out hole. “Inside! Please!”

“You think three fingers was enough? You want my knot, you’re gonna need more than that. Or do you want it to hurt a little? Hmm? Want a little pain with your pleasure?” Jeffrey buried his nose in Norman’s neck, and flexed his fingers on his hips. Norman was positive he’d have ten finger shaped bruises there tomorrow, and he reveled in it. 

Jeffrey inhaled deeply, and growled. “Smell fuckin’ good. Gonna eat you  _ alive, _ ” he rasped, sinking his teeth lightly into the right side of Norman’s neck.

“Want the stretch, need it, want you to fill me-” Norman's voice turned into a howl the moment he felt the teeth against his throat. But they didn't bite hard. No, he needed to be _marked._ _Claimed._

“Bite me! Again! Harder! Please, Alpha!” Norman snarled against the wall, one of his hands reaching back and sinking his fingers into Jeffrey's hip, leaving light scratches. His thighs were trembling, and he didn’t think he could wait much longer to feel his Alpha deep inside him.

Fingers clenching even harder on Norman’s hips, Jeffrey snarled, and snapped his own hips forward without warning, burying himself to the hilt in Norman’s quivering body. The loud groan they both let out was probably audible for several hundred yards, and Norman was positive his legs were going to completely give out before everything was said and done.

Latching on to his hair, Jeffrey yanked Norman’s head back, and sank his teeth into Norman’s right shoulder, drawing out his groan even longer. “Fuck! You taste good,” Jeffrey yelled, continuing to snap his hips, driving his thick cock in and out of Norman’s ass.

Feeling the blood dripping down his back, Norman shuddered. “More,” he moaned, as Jeffrey’s dick dragged across his sensitive rim over and over. “Fucking knot me!”

“You’ll get what you ask for, Norman,” Jeffrey panted, driving all the way in and holding himself still until Norman started to squirm. “You just fucking wait for it. I got you.”

The sensation of Jeffrey's cock filling him up was a sensation he never wanted to get used to. He wanted to be filled with him. Bursting. Wanted to  _ reek _ of sex. His cock rubbed up hard against the wall in a desperate search for friction, trying to match the brutal pace Jeffrey had set.

The Omega grit his teeth together, then let out a loud shout when Jeffrey slammed himself so deep into him, that it caused sparks to flash in front of his eyes, and awaken something within him.

“Please, Alpha, I need your knot! Want you to breed me, wanna have your pups, please, I need it!” Norman's demands almost became a sob as the hand pressed against the wall clawed down, leaving visible stripes. He couldn't stop his words. They came flowing out too fast. “Wanna be yours, Alpha, wanna be a good Omega for you.”

Jeffrey groaned loudly, and bit down onto Norman’s neck. It was higher up this time, and Norman didn’t have a prayer of hiding it from  _ anyone. _ His voice was muffled by Norman’s flesh when he spoke, “Yeah? You gonna give me pups, Norman? I’ll fill you up with so much come you’ll have a whole litter for me. You like that? Want me to breed you up good? Keep you full of my come all the time. Have to walk around naked, because it’ll always be leaking from that stretched out ass of yours.”

Jeffrey threw his head back, and snarled, his hips moving faster. “You’d be so fucking sexy all swollen up with my pups. Even sexier than you are now. Gonna give it to you, Norman. Give you what you want. Fill you up with my knot and my come. Breed you and turn you into a good little Omega for me.”

Norman's entire body was shivering and trembling. The pure high of the bites was enough to make him see stars, and he couldn't stop from thrusting his hips back in time with Jeffrey, the lewd sound of flesh on flesh echoing with their moans.

“J-jeffrey, Jeffrey, please, I'm gonna..” Norman didn't quite know what he was going to say after that, as he felt the teeth sink into his shoulder again, and he could  _ feel  _ the growl rumbling into his flesh. His mind turned blank, and with a shriek, he clamped down onto Jeffrey's cock and came between the wall and himself, smearing come across his already sweat-slick body.

Feeling Norman clamp down on him and shuddering at his own orgasm was too much for Jeffrey, and he thrusted himself deep within Norman, his nails clawing down Norman's hips. The Alpha's snarl was muffled only with Norman's flesh as his knot started to grow inside of his clenched body, sealing them together as Jeffrey began to come deep inside Norman.

The hot fluid filling Norman made his body almost melt within Jeffrey's hands. Jeffrey’s quick reflexes were the only thing that prevented him from outright collapsing. His body shook, and his yowl died down to a hoarse whine, faintly pained at the deep stretching inside of him. Panting wildly, he couldn't help but lean back against Jeffrey for some much needed support, and the Alpha quickly held him tight against him.

“I got ya, I got ya, right here,” Jeffrey groaned softly, having finally unhinged his jaws from Norman's abused and bloodied neck. Jeffrey tucked his other arm around Norman's hips to ensure that he would stay close. Taking a few steps towards the bed, he rocked himself back to sit onto the edge, pulling Norman with him as he did so.

A soft whine slipped from Norman as he felt Jeffrey’s knot tugging at his still sensitive flesh. The burn took time to get used to, again. When was the last time he’d had a proper heat? Where he could have allowed himself to conceive?

No, he remembered the last time. It was why he refused to be triggered into heat since. And it left him regretting every plea that had just left his mouth.

His back arched, leaning his head back onto Jeffrey's shoulder as he panted softly. Jeffrey moved his arm to curl around Norman's waist, pressing a hand against his softer stomach, his thumb stroking lightly over the surgical scar. “Such a good Omega, my Omega,” Jeffrey rumbled as he nuzzled against Norman's cheek, his deep breaths wafting out against Norman’s neck. Jeffrey’s other arm crossed over Norman's chest, holding him firmly against his chest.

“Shit. Forgot how long this takes,” Norman hissed between clenched teeth, the uncomfortable sitting position making him squirm. Jeffrey let out a deep chuckle, pressing a kiss against the bite high up on his neck.

“I gotcha, kitten,” he murmured, securing his arms tight around Norman and tilting his body back. It took some uncomfortable shifting, and half-assed attempts at directing each other, but  _ finally  _ they managed to lay down in the bed, curled up beneath the many blankets that infested it. Soon enough, Jeffrey had his arms curled back around Norman, resuming his soft stroking of his stomach.

Within moments of settling down, Norman was already letting out a soft purr, though it quickly changed to a pained murmur when Jeffrey began nosing over the marks he’d made across Norman’s shoulders and neck.

“Uh, not to be awkward or anything, Norm, but…” Jeffrey paused, his fingers flicking out to wipe away a small smear of blood from Norman’s collar bone. He adjusted his grasp around the Omega, trying to slip his hand away from Norman's stomach without being noticed. “You know I’m not really up for more pups or anything right now, don’t you?”

Norman stilled, and a lump settled itself into his stomach. He stared at the bedsheets and took in a deep breath, letting it out moments later, if just to steady himself. He might not really want Jeffrey as his mate anymore, thought he had at one point. Desperately. Still hurt being told that he wasn’t wanted. Even if it was only for pups. Pups he couldn’t even… No. Best not to think about that now. Not again. Not ever. 

“Yeah, I know. S’just talk. Heat of the moment stuff. I know Hilarie is your mate.” Twisting his head around, Norman tried his best to look Jeffrey in the eyes. “She’s good for you. Makes you less stupid,” he smirked, letting his head fall back into the pile of blankets.

“Hey now, don’t forget we’re still attached,” Jeffrey growled, moving his hips back and letting his knot pull at the rim of Norman’s abused hole.

“Ow! Fucker!” Norman whined, balling up his fist, and punching Jeffrey in the leg.

Jeffrey laughed, his body jolting on the bed. “Norman, that’s not gonna make me stop moving.”

Norman balled up his other fist, and started pummeling any piece of flesh he could get at.

“Knock it off, asshole!” Jeffrey mock growled, and sunk his teeth teasingly into Norman’s abused and sore shoulder, causing him to freeze with a loud whine. “That’s what I thought.”

Feeling Jeffrey release his shoulder once again, Norman went boneless, and sighed happily. He looked back over his shoulder at a sleepy-eyed Jeffrey. “You’re gonna fuck me again, right? Later?”

Jeffrey nodded, his eyes lidded. “Mmhmm. Probably more than once.”

“Good,” Norman sighed, burrowing into the blankets as best he could. He was just closing his eyes when he felt a tap on his side.

“...Where are they at?” Jeffrey said, his voice unusually soft.

Blinking them back open, it took far more time than it should have for him to remember. “Oh. Yeah.” Raising his head, he looked to the nightstand just out of his reach.

The pill bottle was standing next to his alarm clock, already half empty. He needed to get more if he was going to get through the rest of the season. Sometimes he wondered why he still took them. It's not like he'd actually had a heat in years.    
  
Still, the way his luck ran, he’d stop taking them, and suddenly his body would remember how it was supposed to work.

He raised a hand and pointed. “There. You know the drill.”

Jeffrey gave a low chuckle, patting Norman's side. “Got it, kitten. Two every four hours, or until I fuck the heat outta ya.”

Barking out a laugh of his own, Norman let his eyes close one more time. Yeah, he’d earned a nap.

“... _ So _ , since I have you here all to myself, and I don’t see you going anywhere anytime soon, what’s this I hear about some  _ asshole _ actor using the Alpha voice on you?”

Norman groaned, and dragged a pillow over his head. It was going to be a long night.


	6. Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeffrey has made it painfully clear to who Norman belongs to. It's unfortunate that Andrew does not understand limits.

Norman needed to move to a better apartment because this shower was _shit._ Abandoning his half-assed attempts to wash off the smell of Norman and sex and slick, Jeffrey stepped out of the shower.

Grumbling under his breath, the Alpha ran the towel over his body, trying to ignore the shivers of cold since the hot water had run out so quickly. Maybe he needed to check out a few more apartments for Norman. Hell, once this TV show aired, and was the hit he was almost positive it would be, Norman could afford a house down here.

But he knew Norman wasn't one to spend money with little thought. His idea of splurging was buying some masks to put on the walls, or buying new video games for Mingus.

Trying to not roll his eyes, Jeffrey stepped across the apartment nude, knowing that there was no reason to cover himself up. No, he was going to ensure this place smelled like Alpha. And he coated Norman like a second skin. Smirking to himself, he stepped to the bedroom and cracked open the door, peering inside.

Norman was still splayed out on the bed, his normal snores mixed with content purring. The smell of sex and slick were thick in the air. Chances were high that Norman would not be getting out of bed anytime soon, not with the way Jeffrey had worn him out.

He’d been moments away from prowling back into the bedroom and using a few distinct methods to try and entice Norman into waking up early when he heard a knocking on the door. Jeffrey went stiff. Norman had told him that no one knew where he lived.

Glancing around the sad excuse for a living room, Jeffrey saw a pair of Norman’s pajama pants slung over the back of the couch. Shaking his head, but seeing no other choice that didn’t involve waking his Omega from a _well earned_ sleep, Jeffrey pulled them on. “Jesus,” he grimaced. “Think you can count the hairs on my balls these things are so fuckin’ tight.”

Shrugging, since it really couldn’t be helped, he sauntered over to the door. Mentally noting that he needed to bitch at Norman about not having a peephole, he opened the door. Leaning languidly against it, Jeffrey looked over the man on the doorstep. He was about the same height as Norman, but not nearly as broad. He looked scrawny, and Jeffrey firmly placed him at the bottom of his mental pecking order despite the relatively strong Alpha scent he was putting out.

“Can I help you?” he drawled, leaning more heavily against the door.

The unfamiliar Alpha almost jumped as the door opened, pale blue eyes blinking wildly. It was obvious that this man had not been expecting a large Alpha to be filling up the doorway. “I, uh…” he stammered at first, taking a step back.

The Alpha swallowed, and he took in a deep breath, only to choke on the scents he inhaled.

“What’s the matter, man?” Jeffrey said, his grin wicked. “Never smelled a fucked out Omega before? You’re missing _out_!”

“I-I hadn't…” the Alpha croaked out, rubbing his face where Jeffrey noticed the faintest ring of red at the edge of the blue. Clearing his throat, he lifted his head to meet Jeffrey's eyes, but kept his head tilted down slightly. “...Is this where Norman lives?” He flinched at his own question, like he was mentally berating himself for asking something that had such an obvious answer.

“I was just checking to ensure he’s alright.”

Jeffrey swung the door open wider, ensuring a large gust of air, thick with the scent of himself and Norman, sex, and slick, wafted out over the other man.

He leaned in close, ignoring his near nudity, and whispered, “Do you smell that?”

The smaller Alpha visibly recoiled, pressing a hand against his nose. He cursed softly under his breath, only to look back up at Jeffrey. The red ring was still present and his pupils were blown wide, yet he managed to glare up at him.

Even when the smaller Alpha was met with Jeffrey's widening grin, he managed to utter a growl. “Let me see him. If you've hurt him, taken advantage of him...” he threatened, and the growl came in that familiar tone of voice.

The Alpha voice. A threat. A _challenge._

Jeffrey felt his grin, almost impossibly, get wider, even as he felt the red ring around his irises expand. “You challenging me, person I’ve never met before in my life? Maybe we should do introductions first, you think?”

Pulling the door all the way open, Jeffrey pulled his spine straight, and stood up tall. He held out his hand. His voice going low, and his smile fading, he said, “I’m Jeffrey. I’m guessing you work with Norman. You are?”

The smaller Alpha visibly paled as Jeffrey stood at full height, swallowing. Yet surprisingly, he also straightened his body, lifting his chin and meeting his challenge. Jeffrey, grudgingly, moved him up the hierarchy. Just a step or two.  “Andrew. Andrew Lincoln, his _co-worker._ And last I checked, he didn't _have_ an Alpha. What, did you follow him here?”

Jeffrey folded his arms across his chest, and stared down at Andrew. “Well, Andrew Lincoln, co-worker of Norman, I never said I was his Alpha, did I? No? No. Got a quick question for you though.” Jeffrey put his palms up in the air, and widened his eyes. “If you’ve got time that is. You have some time, _Andrew Lincoln,_ co-worker of Norman?”

“I’ve got all bloody day,” Andrew countered, a growl growing in his voice. “I will not leave until I know Norman is alright. I don't care if I have to go through you. _Jeffrey._ ”

“Well, you’re free to try and do that,” Jeffrey grinned, letting the corners of his mouth quirk up enough that his canines were clearly visible. “First though, my question. You ready?”

He looked at Andrew with wide eyes, and a cocked head. “You look ready.”

All of the pretense fell off of Jeffrey in an instant, and his eyes went completely red. His brows drew together, and his next words were nothing but a thick growl, barely comprehensible. “Are you the piece of shit,” he spit, a vein standing out on his forehead, and his hands balling into fists, “That used your _goddamn_ Alpha voice on my friend? The very first _fucking day_ you met him?”

Taking a quick step forward, Jeffrey looked down into Andrew’s eyes, and spoke softly, every word razor-edged. “Was that you, _Andrew Lincoln_ , co-worker of Norman?”

With every word that was spat at Andrew, the aggression in the man’s smaller body began to fail. His eyes grew wide at every word, the red retracting. He almost stumbled back, to the point that he was pressed against the railing as Jeffrey hissed in his face.

“I-I would never! Not on purpose!” Andrew stammered, his body visibly shrinking. “I wouldn't hurt an Omega, never! I apologized for that scene, we hadn't a guess at him being an Omega. He simply didn't look like one!”

Baring his elongated canines at the smaller man, Jeffrey pressed in closer, pushing him up against the wall opposite Norman’s door. “He’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, Omega or not. At least he has the common fucking courtesy not to judge everyone based on something involuntary.”

Looking the other Alpha over from head to toe, Jeffrey sneered, backing away. “Get the fuck out of here, Andrew. You’re not worth the energy. I’ve been burning a lot off recently, after all.” Looking over his shoulder at the other man, Jeffrey winked before walking back inside the apartment.

He was seconds away from slamming the door when strong hands grabbed the edge and a foot was shoved in between the gap. “I said I wasn't going to leave until I knew he was alright!” Andrew snarled. “How do I know you didn't scoop him up and force yourself on him?”

Jeffrey bared his teeth again, and his jaws snapped around empty air, only centimeters from Andrew’s face. “You need to take your snotty ass back to _wherever_ the fuck you came from, _prick._ Before I beat the piss out of you for hurting my fucking friend.”

Finally able to meet Jeffrey's glare, the red bleeding back into his blue eyes, Andrew bared his own teeth, snarling, “I will not leave him with you! I'll be _damned_ if I-”

“Jeffrey, the fuck! Why'd you leave?! Thought you said you were gonna there when I woke up!”

Andrew’s snarl dropped immediately, his jaw hanging as he struggled to look past Jeffrey to the owner of the voice that was now standing at the entrance of the living room. There was a plush blanket curled tightly around Norman’s waist in a half-assed attempt to cover up, and he looked quite displeased at having to get up.

Wrapping one arm around a struggling Andrew’s neck, and using the other to pin his arms behind his back, Jeffrey grinned over at Norman. “I’ll be there in a minute, sweetheart, gotta take out some trash real quick like.”

A tired scowl was all that showed on Norman's face. His hair was tangled and messy, and it was quite clear he had made no attempt to clean his body of slick and come. He opened his mouth to retort, only for his eyes to widen at the sight of Andrew. His face went pale.

“What the fuck are _you_ doing here?” Norman attempted to snarl, but it was weakened by a faint shaking in his voice. His hands knotted into the blanket he’d covered himself with, clawing at it to pull it higher.

Andrew, on the other hand, had stopped struggling. His eyes were entirely on Norman, staring at the mixture of bruises and bites, the stains on his skin. _Everything._ Something rumbled in his chest just as red flickered within his eyes.

“Andrew here was _just_ fucking leaving, weren’t you Andrew?” Jeffrey said, his arm tightening around the other man’s neck. “We had a nice little talk, and now it’s time for him to go.”

Norman visibly swallowed as Jeffrey tightened his restraints, his eyes flashing, before he gave the smallest nod. “...D-don’t hurt him too much. Gonna delay filming if he gets sent to the hospital. I don't wanna be here any longer than I have to,” Norman grunted, throwing a glare back at Andrew.

Andrew flinched at this, a soft whine slipping from him as he watched Norman start to walk away. He struggled in vain to free his arms, obviously wishing to follow the Omega.

“I don’t think so, you limey fuck,” snarled Jeffrey, pushing Andrew up against the wall outside. He turned Andrew around so he was able to stare into the smaller man’s eyes, one hand still holding tight around his wrists.

“I’m gonna tell you this one time, you hear me? _One time._ That man in there?” Jeffrey loosened one hand to jerk a thumb back in the direction Norman had disappeared. “He’s important to me. I’ve known him for something like 15 years now, and whatever the fuck happened on set this week? Never seen him like that before. _Ever._ ”

Jeffrey’s free hand moved up and latched onto Andrew’s throat. “If I ever hear about you using the Alpha voice on him again, or if he gets hurt in any way. I’ll kill you.”

Moving his face in closer, only millimeters away from Andrew’s wide blue eyes, Jeffrey whispered his threat again. “ _I. Will. Kill you._ Understand?”

Any attempt at a struggle was stopped, leaving Andrew shaking slightly in Jeffrey's grasp. He could feel Andrew swallow, before his words were met with a nod. “I-it will never happen again,” he grunted, his voice hoarse from the hold Jeffrey had on his throat.

Jeffrey released Andrew instantly, a wide grin returning to his face. “Well, there we go!” he said, clapping Andrew on the shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Andrew. Heard great things about the show. Hope it goes well for you guys, and I’m looking forward to watching it.” Looking back over his shoulder, he turned a lascivious grin back onto Andrew. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a _really_ fucking horny Omega to get back to.” Jeffrey leaned back a little as he said the words, his grin getting even wider.

All Andrew did was stare, a soft flush covering his face before he gave himself a quick shake. He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it within moments and turned away, rubbing his wrists as he started the awkward walk out of the apartment complex.

“Jeffrey, I'm gonna get old and fucking die before you fuck me!”

Shutting the door behind Andrew, Jeffrey pitched his voice just high enough that the man walking away would hear him. “I’m coming, Norman, shit! I’m gonna fuck my dick raw at this rate!”

\---

“They're gonna think I got chewed up by a zombie.”

“I ain't hearing you complaining.”

“Nope!”

Jeffrey let out a snort at Norman's chipper response, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. The Omega was slouched back in his seat, playing with the sunglasses in his hand. There were still a few slivers of gold within his blue eyes, the aftermath of their… morning motivation.

It was almost like old times.

Even though they were never fully mates, they’d had more than a few years of being just as close. It had been by chance that they had even met in the first place, having met at a bar. Norman had been shy at first, like any Omega would be, but after a few drinks and several times of bumping into each other at the same bar, they grew closer.

It wasn’t only his marriage to Anya that kept them from becoming mates, and kept Jeffrey from helping Norman bear a pup. They loved each other, they really did, but not in the right way. Jeffrey would deny it until he was blue in the face, but he really was a giant softie underneath all his Alpha bluster, and Norman… He knew instinctually that Jeffrey wouldn’t be able to give him everything he craved. After a separation on both their sides, however, they finally were able to give it a shot. At least… for a while.

Reaching over, Jeffrey grasped onto Norman's hand and pressed his lips against the knuckles. The purr that rumbled from Norman cracked a grin across his face, even as his stomach was still rolling. The fact that Norman didn't have a single complaint about him coming to set was worrying.

Norman was normally a lone wolf type of guy, being able to fend for himself. Actually needing Jeffrey to be with him… it was worrying. Was there more that Norman wasn't telling him? Had they done more to him?

Finding a parking spot relatively easy since it was still early, Jeffrey stepped out of his rental car, Norman following just as quickly. “I'm tellin’ ya, summers down here are brutal,” Norman groaned as he slipped on his sunglasses then looked up to the sky empty of clouds. Just the sun beating down on them.

“It’s already fucking humid, what the hell?”

Norman nodded and headed over to the wardrobe trailer. “It’s humid at midnight, man. Maybe if we’d’ve left my apartment at some point over the last 2 days, you’d know that.”

Jeffrey hung back for a moment, and Norman looked over his shoulder, confused. “What’re you doing?”

“Enjoying the sight of you walking funny,” Jeffrey smirked, thoroughly enjoying Norman’s rapid blush. Catching up quickly, Jeffrey nuzzled his face into Norman’s neck. “You still smell like sex and me. I love it.”

His blush deepening, Norman swatted at the other man, and scowled, looking around the still relatively empty lot. “Knock it off. I don’t wanna ruin another pair of pants. Jerk.”

Jeffrey threw his head back, and laughed loudly, drawing a reluctant smile from Norman. “God you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? I love that, too. Just so you know.”

“Shut up and go get some water. There should be some in that tent thing over there.” Norman pointed at a sturdy looking tent in the distance. “Food and shit there, too. It’s pretty good. Better than some sets I’ve been on.”

“Better than Supernatural?”

“Nah, still good though.”

They reached the wardrobe trailer, and Norman pointed again at the tent. “I’ll be a while. Gotta go to makeup after this. I’ll meet you over there in an hour maybe.”

“Not gonna keep me entertained? That’s not very nice,” Jeffrey grinned. “I’m doubting your southern hospitality, Mister Dixon.”

“S’cause I’m not southern, dickbag. Now fuck off, I got shit to do.”

Walking slowly backwards, Jeffrey lifted his hands, and raised both middle fingers. “Love you, too, Normie. Love you, too.”

When his friend disappeared into the trailer, Jeffrey made his way over to the craft services tent. He was pleasantly surprised to find several people milling around inside, along with a buffet type setup complete with whatever kind of breakfast food you could want. Everything from cereal and oatmeal, to waffles and eggs.

Standing in the short line, Jeffrey patiently waited his turn, absently fiddling with the hem of his white t shirt. After getting his breakfast - pancakes, with a side of bacon - he let his eyes roam over the space as more and more people started showing up.

A deep scowl took over his face as he watched Andrew fucking Lincoln walk into the tent. There was another man with him. Dark hair, dark eyes, and olive-toned skin. Must be the other guy Norman told him about. The one who actually did the choking. If there weren’t so many people in the room, he’d walk up and introduce himself. Make sure the guy knew that Norman was not to be fucked with.

He watched them make their way through the breakfast line as he ate, and smirked slightly when Andrew noticed him and stiffened. Giving the man a jaunty wave, Jeffrey let his smirk widen. It was maybe one notch or two down from predatory, but damn, the asshole deserved it.

Jeffrey was shocked when the dark haired man tugged on Lincoln’s shirt and nodded in his direction. It was entirely possible that whoever that guy was, he was going to be quickly surpassing Lincoln in Jeffrey’s mental hierarchy.

After pushing away his plate, Jeffrey leaned back in the chair, stretching out his long frame. He really was a bit sore. It had been quite some time since he’d indulged in a marathon weekend of sex with anyone, let alone Norman, someone who enjoyed putting up one hell of a fight. He could still feel the assortment of bites and bruises on his body.

He softened his expression as the two men wove their way through the tables to stand in front of him.

“Hey, I’m Jon. You’re a friend of Norman’s, right?”

“That would be me. Jeffrey.” He extended his hand, and they shook. Always preferring to get directly to his point, Jeffrey looked into Jon’s eyes. “I hear you got a little overzealous during a scene. What’s up with that, man?”

Jon had the good sense to flush, and look embarrassed. He was already climbing up the ranks. It was obvious he felt horrible about what happened.

Rubbing a hand through his hair, a move that Jeffrey wondered idly if he brought to his character, Jon said, “Yeah, it was a mistake. Guess I was trying to make myself look good, or something. I apologized, but… Mind if I ask you a question? It’ll help me with my apology.”

“Floor’s yours, Jon. Have a seat and ask away.” Jeffrey was pointedly ignoring Lincoln.

Jon settled into the bench seat, poking at Lincoln when he hesitated, and hissing, “Sit down, Andy, shit. You’ll only make it worse.”

Jeffrey just raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Not sure that’s possible.”

He could see the wince on Lincoln’s face even out of the corner of his eye. Nice.

“Anyway,” Jon said, picking up his silverware and cutting into his omelet. “I saw Norman eating a couple chocolate bars last week. He like chocolate a lot?”

“Norman fucking _loves_ chocolate,” Jeffrey said, his curiosity piqued. “He eats a whole bar nearly every night before he goes to bed. Why?”

A broad grin swept across Jon’s face, and he actually fucking fist pumped. Right there in the middle of the craft services tent. Jeffrey hadn’t seen anyone fistpump unironically since somewhere around 99’.

“I knew it!” Jon turned and punched Lincoln lightly on the shoulder. “Told you it was a good idea, man.”

Lincoln just shrugged, and continued eating his fucking _oatmeal._ Really? Oatmeal? Out of all the things sitting on the buffet, he chose oatmeal? Something was definitely wrong with that boy.

“I’m in the dark here,” Jeffrey said. “What was a good idea?”

Jon grinned at him, his eyes bright. “I bought him a gift basket. Whole bunch of chocolate shit in it, too. Thought it would be easier to accept an apology if he had something sweet when he received it.”

Jeffrey’s eyes widened. “Just exactly how big is that basket, and did you already give it to him? It’s really fucking important that you tell me. Be _very_ specific. _How_ much chocolate?”

Looking a bit confused, Jon hesitated to answer. “Uh…”

Getting up from his seat, and crossing over to stand next to the other man, Jeffrey planted his hands on Jon’s shoulders. “Did you already give it to him?”

“I uh… I left it for him in the makeup trailer. He was scheduled in first this morning, so I thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

“Uh huh. How much chocolate?” Jeffrey braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut, and praying that this guy hadn’t gone too overboard.

“I dunno, man. Maybe… 10 bars or so? And a big Hershey Kiss, I think. Maybe a small bag of them, too.”

Jeffrey winced, but his shoulders relaxed somewhat, and his hands slipped off Jon’s shoulders. “Maybe I have time,” he murmured, turning and walking out of the tent. “Makeup trailer is this way?” he asked, pointing.

Jon nodded. “Why?”

“I’m going to _try_ to stop Norman from eating every single bit of that chocolate, and turning your set into a giant sugar-fueled playground. Wish me luck!”

Without waiting for either of the Alphas to ask anymore questions, as if he would care to answer them anyway, Jeffrey pushed his way out of the tent and glanced up to the trailer he had seen Norman heading towards. He still wasn't out yet.

Swallowing down his dread, he rushed his way up the small hill and approached the trailer. No sounds of them struggling to take away his chocolate… maybe he would be lucky and his strong nose had failed him this one time?

“Norman?” Jeffrey called just as he grabbed the handle to the trailer and pulled it open.

And there Norman sat, arms wrapped tight around a wicker basket, licking remnants of chocolate off of his fingertips. As he lifted his head to look back at Jeffrey, the Alpha paused, taking a good look at his face. There wasn't twitching yet. Pupils were normal.

Glancing back to the basket, he swallowed. “Hey, Normie, how about I take that back to your place so it doesn't melt?” Jeffrey asked, forcing a smile on his face in a vague attempt to form some trust.

The chocolate bars were nearly gone. He couldn't see the bag of Hershey's kisses. The large kiss was still there, but Norman was already peeling open another chocolate bar. The makeup artists were throwing glances at each other, unsure whether or not it was safe to take away the basket.

“I was wrong about Jon, the guy's awesome,” Norman beamed, fully ignoring Jeffrey’s question and eating a few squares. There was a faint tremor in his hands.

“Norman,” Jeffrey warned, taking a few careful steps inside the trailer. “I think you've had enough. You haven't had breakfast yet.”

“Nah, I'm good.”

Jeffrey barely held back a soft growl, knowing that Norman wasn't understanding him. “Norman. Put down the basket.”

That seemed to get a reaction, blue eyes blinking as they looked back at him. “But… but it's mine,” Norman whined, the arm looped around the basket tightening.

“I know it's yours, and you can have the rest later. But right now, I think you've had enough.” When all this caused was Norman consuming a few more squares, Jeffrey ground his teeth together. Time for a different approach.

“Do you remember the last time you gorged yourself on chocolate? Hilarie found you in the barn, naked, up in the rafters. I still don't know how you got up there but it was a pain in the ass getting you down.” Jeffrey narrowed his eyes as Norman paused, his blue eyes locking with his own. Maybe he was getting through…

“But…”

“No buts. Now, I'm going to come over there, and I'm going to take your basket to craft services so they can keep it cold. It's going to melt otherwise.” At the mention of melting, Norman's eyes widened. A mixture of fear and dread crossed his gaze, and Jeffrey felt his stomach twist. Shit. He knew that look.

“Don't do it, Norm. It's not worth it.”

Blue eyes looked back down at the chocolate bar within his hand.

“Don't…”

Back at Jeffrey. The Alpha took a step closer. Norman flinched, his fingers tightening around the bar in his hand.

“I'm just going to take that to craft services to make sure it stays cold. Okay? Do you think we can handle that?” Even with his quiet voice, Jeffrey knew that at any moment, now, the desire to keep his chocolate would activate his fight or flight reflex. It was easily as bad as his protectiveness of pups.

Norman gave a soft whine, his eyes once again going back to the chocolate. Taking the opportunity of Norman’s eyes not being on him, Jeffrey took a few more steps, reaching out to grasp the handle of the basket…

“'s mine!”

The Omega suddenly bolted past Jeffrey, the makeup chair spinning wildly behind him. “God damn it, Norman!” Jeffrey growled as he turned around in the small trailer, working his way past the two stunned makeup artists.

“No, it's mine!”

“Norman!”

Jeffrey made it out the door just in time to see Norman sprinting for the front of the studio. “Dammit, Norman!”

Glancing to his left, he saw Jon and _him_ standing there looking confused, and he quickly ran over to them. Pointing at Jon, he growled, “You started this shit, you can help me catch him.”

“It was just some chocolate, man! What the hell?”

Jeffrey rolled his eyes. “The last time he had that amount of chocolate he ended up naked in the rafters of my barn, okay! I’m betting you don’t want him streaking around here naked as a fucking jaybird, do you?”

Jon swallowed, but Andrew looked intrigued. Rounding on him, Jeffrey sighed. “Look, help me get him, and take that fucking chocolate away, and,” he glared balefully at Andrew, “I’ll help you get that fucking Alpha voice under control. Deal?”

Andrew’s mouth dropped open, and he looked stunned for a moment, but he quickly gathered himself, stuck out his hand to shake, and said, “Deal.”

Looking at Andrew’s hand like it was about to bite him, Jeffrey sucked it up, and shook on it. “Now fucking c’mon! He’s got too much of a head start!”

Exchanging incredulous looks, Jon and Andy took off after Jeffrey.

Several minutes later, they were running out of places to look. Andrew ran a hand through his hair, and shook his head. “Maybe he went into the offices or something?”

“No,” Jeffrey said, a frown on his face. “He knows I’d check there. He’s somewhere he thinks I’d never look. Or somewhere I think he’d never go.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck, and then brightened. “Hey, I bet he’s in the wardrobe trailer again. _He_ probably thinks that _you_ think he’d never go there. ‘Cause it’s obvious, right?” Jon looked between Andrew and Jeffrey, his smile wide.

“He’s got a point,” Andrew conceded.

“He does,” Jeffrey muttered, before turning on his heels. “Let’s go.”

As they approached the trailer, Jeffrey motioned for them to slow down, and stay quiet. “I’ll go in first, you two stand out here. Is there more than one exit to this thing?”

Andrew nodded, and pointed to the rear of the trailer.

“Okay, Jon, you stay with me. Cover the front door. Andrew, you cover the back. Don’t let him get past you. He’s a slippery fucker, and he’ll play fucking dirty to protect his chocolate. He kicked me in the fucking balls once when I took a bite out of his chocolate easter bunny.” Jeffrey cupped a hand protectively over his groin as he thought about it. “That shit was sore for like a week.”

Moving up to the door, Jeffrey slowly eased it open, walking through the doorway in a slight crouch. “Norman, you in here? Give it up man, you can’t eat the whole fucking basket!”

“Jeffrey Dean Morgan! What have I told you about watching your language in front of Gus!”

Jeffrey’s jaw dropped open as Hilarie popped her head up above the edge of Norman’s makeshift nest. She had a chocolate bar in her hand, and several smears of it across her cheek. “What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

Hilarie climbed out of the nest, and walked up to her husband. “I missed you. Gus missed you. We missed Norman. So here we are.” She smiled up at him, and pulled him down to her for a lingering kiss. “Surprise.”

“Well, fuck me. Where’s Gus?” Jeffrey’s eyes lit up as he thought about his son. “He’s gotta be here ‘cause you bitched at me for cursing.”

“Yes. He’s in the nest with Norman. They’re cuddling.”

“Watch your language, old man! Hilarie's gonna whoop your behind if you keep cussin’.”

Blinking and narrowing his eyes to stare into the darker half of the trailer, he managed to catch sight of Norman curled up in the nest, nuzzling into Gus’s chest. Glancing back down at his wife, he couldn't control the grin over his face.

“I can't believe they let you in here,” Jeffrey commented as he grasped Hilarie's hand, giving it a soft squeeze as he walked to the back of the trailer. Even a few steps away, he could hear Norman's purrs and rumbles, gushing over the baby he held in his arms.

“Oh, I ran into Norman right by the entrance. He got me cleared to come in and gave me some chocolates. Isn't he sweet?” Hilarie giggled, taking another bite out of the chocolate bar in her hand. The basket was sitting off to the side at this point, and Norman seemed to have forgotten it existed.

Huffing softly to himself at Norman giving up the chocolate so easily when it came to Hilarie and not him, Jeffery knelt down beside the nest. Even as he was itching to hold his son again, he knew better than to take him away from Norman without warning.

Even if Gus was not Norman's blood child, suddenly taking an infant away from an Omega was a good way to get your throat slashed.

“Scoot,” Jeffrey chuckled, watching as Norman took a few moments to register the command. Once there was enough room for both him and Hilarie to squeeze in, he shifted his way to kneel beside the two Omegas as they curled up just as always. The Omegas facing each other to share the pup between them, and Jeffrey lowering himself to lay by their heads. He hooked his arm around Hilarie's waist, resting his head into the crook of her neck and taking in a deep breath of her sweet scent.

Though his eyes were on his pup, Jeffrey still hyper aware of the Alphas waiting outside. Now with his entire pack here, there would be little time to relax.

“He's getting so big!” Norman cooed as he adjusted Gus, shifting him back into Hilarie's arms. Leaning over, Jeffrey let out a rumble as he ran his fingers through Gus's short, fluffy hair, his heart swelling at the content noises that his son made.

Jeffrey’s head jerked up when he heard the sound of the trailer door swinging open. A low growl built in his chest, and one arm tightened around Hilarie’s waist, while the other gathered Gus closer to his body.

“Jeffrey? You find Norman?” Jon poked his head into the trailer, and squinted into the darkness. “Are you in here? The fuck, man?”

Norman stiffened, and distanced himself the smallest amount from the baby. His eyes were fully gold, and when Jeffrey looked at Hilarie, hers were as well.  He smirked internally. If those two morons walked into the trailer, they fucking deserved what they got.

“Is he even in there? I don’t know how he would’ve gotten out without us seeing him leave,” Andrew said from where he was standing, steps behind Jon.

Jon cocked his head, and stared deeper into the darkness. “I think they’re in that nest Norman made in here. I bet they’re fucking. You can tell they totally are.”

Andrew scoffed, and that made Jeffrey snort in amusement. “We are, indeed,” he drawled.

“Fuck, they’re not doing it right now, are they?” Andrew asked, pushing on Jon’s bigger frame to try and get a look inside.

Hilarie moved her lips to Jeffrey’s ear, and whispered, “If they don’t stop cursing around Gus, I’m going to claw their eyes out.” She smiled sweetly up at Jeffrey.

“ _Bloodthirsty_. I love it,” Jeffrey grinned, brushing his lips across her forehead.

“Move out of the way, Jon!”

“Uh, I don’t know.” Jon hesitated. Jeffrey thought maybe he was getting a clue that they didn’t want him here, but Andrew was, sadly, unaware.

“Fucking move!” Andrew yelled, pushing hard on Jon’s back, causing him to stumble into the trailer, and knock over a large stack of boxes.

The resulting crash startled a sleeping Gus, and he let out a loud wail, waving chubby fists in the air.

Norman growled loudly, and left the nest, making sure he disturbed the other occupants as little as possible. Prowling forward, his fingers curled into claws, he hissed, baring his teeth at the two men that upset Gus.

“Oh shit,” Jon said, scrambling to get to his feet, and practically sprinting out of the trailer. Clearly, Jeffrey thought, he’d been around a pissed off Omega before.

“Uh, sorry, Norman. Jeffrey had Jon and I helping to search for you, and I swear we didn’t know there was a baby in here. How the hell is there a baby in here?” Andrew felt around on the wall, and flipped the switches to turn on the lights.

When they came on, Gus let out an even louder cry. The lights in here were especially bright, and going from near darkness to full light even hurt Jeffrey’s eyes.

Norman snarled, and rushed forward, shoving at Andrew with all his considerable muscle. Andrew stumbled, and landed in a heap at the foot of the steps. “Fuck off, Lincoln! You hurt that baby any more, and I’ll tear a strip of hide off your fucking ass, ya hear me!” He bared his teeth, and snarled once more for good measure, before turning around and slamming the door behind him.


	7. Crossing the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to filming. Back to work. Now if only Andrew's instincts could allow it.

“Ow.”

Wincing softly as he felt the ice pack against his cheek, Andrew drew the pack away. The last thing he had expected to do this morning was take a quick trip to the nurse because Norman had all but thrown him down the stairs outside the wardrobe trailer. The Omega was still there, along with Jeffrey and… a baby?

Jeffrey said that he wasn't Norman's Alpha. But they had a baby together? Could that have been why Norman was so wound up, being away from his kid? It made sense. He may not know a lot about Omegas, as they were quite rare on the other side of the pond, but weren’t they the ones that could get pregnant?

Andrew let out a long sigh as he sank in his chair, watching Jon and Sarah acting out a scene between Shane and Lori. It was about how they couldn't be together now that Rick was back. He would be more interested… if it wasn't for the fact that he couldn't help but think about how little he knew about his Omega coworker.

And how he didn't know how to use the voice correctly? In London, it was much looser. Use the voice as you would to give orders. Omegas normally were stay-at-home anyway, and not in the workplace. It was just Alphas and Betas. Were there times where it was not appropriate to use it? All he had noticed was that it made Norman’s eyes go gold. Was that a bad thing? Was it different from an Alpha’s red? Andrew shook his head ruefully. He needed to go buy a book or something. How to be an Alpha for Dummies. Maybe something about Omegas in the workplace, since it seemed to be so common over here...

It shouldn't matter. Being an Omega didn't make you any different. And if Norman knew what she- ... _ He. _ . He was still a male. Even if he could conceive. Shit. Everything Andrew knew about biology was being turned upside down.

Maybe he should have done a bit more research on how Americans were different. He could understand the different words, but the difference in culture… The difference in sexes? Never in his life had he met a male Omega. What else was different? Did he have all the normal equipment? 

“Andrew? We were going to set up in camp for the meeting deciding Jim’s fate.”

Jolting in his chair, Andrew turned his head towards the voice. He waved off the assistant, letting out a soft sigh, and a murmur that he would be there soon. They’d been setting up for the past hour for the shot, and now he was not looking forward to it.

Another confrontation between Rick and Daryl, and this time, Daryl would be armed with a pick-axe.

Rubbing his temple, he quietly slid himself out of the chair and departed, already hearing the director calling cut for Jon and Sarah’s scene. They just needed to touch up the make-up and get going… Hopefully by that point, Norman would recover from the intrusion into his nest, mate and pup.

...Wait, how did male Omega’s even  _ give birth? _ Shit. He really needed that book.

\---

“I say we put a pick-axe in his head, and the dead girl's, and be done with it.”

Norman's voice was crisp and hard, his blue eyes narrowed down at the group that surrounding him. His head was still low, and he wasn’t meeting anyone's eyes. Ever since Daryl had lost his brother, he’d become an outsider, lingering on the outside edges of their loose pack.

Andrew kept a wary eye on that pick-axe.

“Is that what you'd want if it were you?” Jon asked, his voice just as curt. 

“Yeah. And I'd thank you while you did it.”

Andrew didn't doubt that Norman would be the same way. He shifted uncomfortably, looking over Norman's shoulder to see 'Jim’ still sitting off to the side, head down. He was already looking sick, having the appearance of sweat and paleness by the makeup department. Sometimes they did too good of a job.

“I hate to say it, and I never thought I would… but maybe Daryl's right.” Andrew swiveled his head back to Dale, trying to keep himself from glaring at Jeffrey DeMunn.

“Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog.”

“I'm not suggesting-”

“He's  _ sick _ . A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?” Andrew looked back up, his gaze crossing the whole group. There was a mixture of uncertainty and pity on their faces, and fearful glances were being thrown back at Jim. No one wanted to kill him, but no one knew what to do otherwise.

“The line's pretty clear,” Norman growled, and Andrew could feel the glare on him now. Lifting his head, he met the steel blue eyes, but Norman didn't miss a beat. Most  _ betas _ cowered before Alphas, and Omegas… What  _ was _ Norman? “Zero tolerance for walkers. ...or them to be.”

“What if we can get him help? I heard the C.D.C. was working on a cure.”

With those words, an argument was started within the group. Whether to go to the C.D.C. or the military base. Shane wanted the military base, but Rick wanted the C.D.C. It was a struggle of power between the two Alphas, and halfway through, he could feel the tension rising up his chest.

The Alpha needed to be put in his place. Shane needed to get on his knees and beg for mercy from disagreeing with him.

A growl started rising into the back of his throat, and his shoulders tensed. He took in a deep breath, tracing the scents. The Betas were starting to get nervous with the Alphas beginning to argue, and then there was the scent of the two Omegas.

One was nervous, fearful. The other… the other was angry. Defiant. As if he was an  _ Alpha. _ That would  _ not  _ be allowed within the pack.

No, he had to show his control. Andrew gritted his teeth together as he met Jon’s eyes, and he could feel the ring of red starting to slip his grasp. It was Alpha versus Alpha.

_ “The C.D.C. is our best choice and Jim's only chance.” _

Silence echoed his words, and Jon's eyes widened. A hard shiver ran up Andrew’s spine, followed by a surge of adrenaline. Every sense was heightened. He could hear every intake of breath, the sound of cameras shifting, but then the footsteps.

Someone was leaving the group.

Snapping his head to the side, he saw Norman turning his back to him. No. That wasn't allowed. An  _ Omega  _ was not going to be turning his back on his Alpha.

“You go looking for aspirin,” Daryl growled, the redneck throwing a glare back over his shoulder. His ringed eyes darted down to the pickaxe being lifted up, and fire launched through Andrew’s veins.

Punish the Omega.

Punish him for disobeying.

“Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!”

A snarl ripped through Andrew in an instant, fury rushing through him. Punish. Punish the Omega!

Shoving himself past a Beta, Andrew bared his teeth at the back of the Omega. But he didn't turn. Didn't cower before him. If anything, the Omega’s aggression level  _ rose. _

Everything that wasn't the Omega became a blur. The voices, the scents, it became nothing. Just as Daryl raised the pick-axe, Andrew yanked it out of his hands, several splinters lodging in his palms from the rough handle.

The tool was thrown to the ground, and the Omega looked over his shoulder and  _ dared  _ to meet his eyes.  _ Dared  _ to bare his teeth at him. It was time to put the Omega into his proper place.

Beneath him.

Letting his instincts to take full control of his body, he reached out and grabbed the Omega by the throat. Using every ounce of his strength, he dragged the other man down onto the ground. Daryl was slammed hard onto his back, hands grabbing at Andrew's wrists to try to peel off his grasp, but they were unmoving. Unrelenting.

_ “No.” _ Andrew snarled, his voice turning deep and rough. He could feel the breath being dragged through his throat, and squeezed harder. The entire time, he couldn't tear his gaze away from those gold eyes.

They were wide, and they were  _ fearful.  _ Andrew knelt down on top of Daryl, adjusting his grip to remain firm around his throat. Beneath the rasping breaths, he could feel the start of whines. Whimpers.

Yes. He was learning.

_ “Down. Beneath me. That's where you belong!” _

A snarl echoed around the camp, and Andrew distantly heard the low growling of an Alpha’s challenge. Lifting his head to meet the Alpha daring to challenge him, a small fraction of his normal behavior began to filter through his instinct soaked mind. He felt his face pale at the blood red eyes boring into his own, and seconds later large hands grabbed at his shoulders and threw him roughly away from the Omega he was pinning.

“What the  _ fuck _ did I tell you, huh?”

Andrew shook his head, trying to shake off the hit. His mind was fuzzy, and the second blow that caught him on the cheekbone didn't help. It sent him to the dirt, scrambling to face the Alpha that had landed the blow.

“I told you what would happen if you hurt him, didn't I? This is all on you,” Jeffrey sneered, fisting his hand in Andrew's shirt and drawing back for another blow.

It never landed. Andrew watched in mortified silence as several crew members and actors rushed forward, dragging an enraged Jeffrey away. He fought them, and almost broke free before a woman rushed into the set and pushed her way to Jeffrey's side. 

“You let him go,” she screamed, her eyes large and golden, and tears dripping down her cheeks.

They didn't. She sobbed loudly and Andrew noticed a small bundle tucked up against her chest, and caught a milky scent. The pup he'd barely seen in the trailer. 

Like she knew they weren't going to release a still struggling Jeffrey she turned and focused her eyes on Norman. Dropping to her knees at his side, she pressed her cheek against his, purring softly and running the fingers of the hand not holding on to the pup through his hair. “Make them let him go, Norman. Please,” she whispered. 

Norman was still on the ground, his hands touching his throat and gasping for air. Had he really  _ strangled  _ him? He was struggling to even sit up, eyes still bright gold. It was then that Andrew realized what was happening.

The Alpha voice. He had commanded Norman to stay down.

He heard Jeffrey roar in the background, and turned his eyes to him just in time to see him break loose from the grip of several men, and, his blood red eyes still focused directly on Andrew, start stalking over to the two figures huddled on the ground.

Only now did Andrew struggle to get off of the ground, a hand pressed against his throbbing cheekbone. Everything was still muddled, but the adrenaline in his body was fading, leaving him shivering and confused.

What the hell did he do? Did he really just…

By this point, Jeffrey had decided to kneel next to Norman and the woman, even though his blood red eyes were still on Andrew. His mouth was moving, talking softly, and his large hands were carefully touching Norman’s cheeks, turning his head yo look back directly at him.

The rest of the cast had split up between surrounding Norman and Andrew, though they were much less delicate with him. Not that he deserved to be handled delicately.

“Get over here!” A voice hissed in his ear, while a hand grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him off to the side. He knew the voice was Jon, and he allowed himself to get pulled off of the campsite set and towards the trees and bushes.

Yet his gaze remained on the group that surrounded Norman, as the nurse walked up. Bloody hell. What had he done?

Jon continued pulling him up until the sound of their voices were far into the distance, and only once he was released did Andrew realize he was shaking. He stumbled over a root, with Jon having to grasp him by the shoulders to hold him steady. Finally, Jon grabbed his chin and turned his head to look back into his red-ringed eyes.

“Andrew, what the fuck was that!”

“I-I don't know, I… he was…”

“He was doing what was in the  _ script, Andrew!” _ Jon hissed, his eyes wide. He let go of Andrew's chin and took a step back, running his hand through his thick hair and gesturing widely towards the campsite. “You just pinned an Omega! Shit, you can get fired for that!”

Andrew swallowed, his mouth going dry. Damn. Jon was right about that. “I got too into the script, and he turned his back-”

“That's not a fucking excuse!”

Andrew winced at Jon's shout, ducking his head. Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? It had been a while since he’d done an intense film, and he forgot about the emotional strain. He rubbed his shaking hand over his face, trying to rub away the pounding of his own head.

Jon opened his mouth again, trying to speak, only to shake his head. “God… god dammit, Andrew. You're lucky Jeffrey didn't kill you! Jesus, he had six people on him!”

Andrew ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes wide. “I don’t know what it is,” he muttered. “I’ve  _ never _ done anything like that before, but as soon as Norman walks on set, I just…” He sighed, and hung his head. “I can’t help it.”

“You need to get those fucking instincts under control, man,” Jon said, only for his eyes to grow wide. He paced back and forth a few times, looking between the set they’d left and Andrew. He raised a hand to his mouth after a few minutes to conceal what looked to be a smile.  A  _ smile? _

Andrew frowned, unable to understand the sudden change. “What the hell are you smiling about?”

Jon shook his head, and lowered his hand, the smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing, Andy. Nothing at all. You’ll figure out everything. I’d bet just about anything on it.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” Andrew stood up and started pacing in a circle. “God, Jeffrey is going to  _ kill  _ me. I doubt those tips on getting myself under control are going to happen now.”

“I think you should talk to Norman.”

“What?!” Andrew’s eyes practically bugged out of his head at the suggestion, spinning around to face Jon, who must have lost his mind. “If I get within ten feet of him, I’ll be torn apart.”

Jon shook his head. “I’ll talk to Jeffrey. I’ve got a better idea about what’s going on now. Why all this shit is happening. Seen it before.”

Andrew scoffed. “Feel like sharing with the class?”

“Nope.”

“Asshole.”

His grin brightening and taking over his whole face, Jon nodded. “Never said otherwise.”

\---

Eyes flicked back to the passenger's seat probably for the third time in the past fifteen minutes. A new day usually meant a new start, but in this case, it was with a handicap.

Jeffrey could clearly see the thick bruising surrounding Norman’s neck. He had asked Norman many times if he wanted to go to the hospital and get checked out, or at least take a break from filming, but Norman was stubborn. As if that was any different. What was different was how quiet Norman was.

Hell, he was usually a chatterbox in the nest. But when they had settled in for the night, he was near silent. Headache, he said. Well, Norman had been dealing with headaches for five years now and rarely complained unless it was excruciating.  The only medicine he would take, though, was Gus’s presence.

His eyes darted down to Norman's hands, the fingers twisting and pawing at a small blanket heavy with Gus's scent. It had been decided that it would be best for Hilarie and Gus to stay at Norman's apartment for today. Jeffrey would make sure that Norman remained calm. Norman would constantly be worried for Gus and Hilarie if they were on set, especially with how a certain Alpha was acting.

Reaching over, Jeffrey carefully wrapped a hand around Norman's hand, making him pause the nervous twitching of his fingers. “No one will think less of you if we go home,” Jeffrey reminded quietly, looking back to the small road on the way to the bluff.

Norman just shrugged.

The Omegas misery was heavy in the air, and there had only been a few times that matched this level, and those times usually were from… from  _ her _ .

Rubbing his hand softly, Jeffrey pulled into the parking lot. They were later than most of the other cast, having been allowed to come in closer to afternoon rather than in the morning. It had led to a good 12 hours just in bed, curled up and quiet. It was going to be a rude awakening on set.

Turning off the car, Jeffrey leaned back into the leather seat, his eyes turning back to Norman. “Where do you go first?” he asked quietly, keeping his voice low.

“Make-up. Gotta cover up…” Norman lifted his hand, motioning vaguely towards the bruise.

Trying not to growl at the sight and reminder of the bruise, Jeffrey instead forced a smirk. “That Alpha’s gonna need a shit ton more than a bit of powder to cover up what I gave him.”

Norman snorted, and Jeffrey caught the sight of a smirk. Mission accomplished.

“C’mon, kitten, let's get you rednecked,” Jeffrey chirped, popping open the door and circling over to Norman's side. 

Soon enough, they were walking up the hill, Norman sliding down sunglasses to block out the light, Jeffrey a menacing shadow behind his slightly smaller form. Some of the cast and crew started to approach, but quickly decided otherwise with one look at Jeffrey. He was more than on edge.

If anyone even dared to bring up what happened yesterday to Norman…

“I'm gonna be a bit. You wanna get something to eat?” Norman asked, turning to look up at Jeffrey as they neared the trailer.

Jeffrey just shook his head. “I ate before I came. While you and Hil got all nesty with Gus, I actually got a good meal in.” He grinned down to the Omega, who showed just the faintest blush and an awkward chuckle.

Waving off his Alpha, Norman climbed up the few steps to the trailer, and the door swung closed behind him.

“Hey, Jeffrey! Need to talk to you a minute, man.”

Jeffrey turned around, his eyes narrowed. He almost couldn't believe who had dared to approach him. “Jon. Come to stick up for your good buddy,  _ Prick _ ?

“Nah, he fucked up and he knows it. No excuse.” Jon looked around them, and winced. “Mind if we go somewhere else? Lotta ears around here. Kind of a sensitive subject to talk about. My trailer is just...” He pointed. It was set back from most of the crew trailers, with an identical one sitting right next to it.

“This gonna take long?” Jeffrey asked. “Norman’s in makeup, and I don’t want to leave him for too long.  _ Especially _ after yesterday.”

“Shouldn’t take long, no. Well, I hope not.” Jon rubbed a hand through his hair, and glanced around them again. “Kinda depends on you, I guess.”

Intrigued, Jeffrey gestured for the other Alpha to lead the way. Inside the trailer, just a basic place, no leather anything, and not even a fridge, Jeffrey sat down on a couch that already sported several reddish stains. Probably from all the fake blood they used around here. He tapped his fingers onto one spot, and grimaced. It was still sort of wet. Wiping his fingers off the best he could, Jeffrey focused his attention back onto Jon. “So… Start talking.”

“Look, man, I think… Shit.” Walking over to the couch, Jon threw himself down on the end opposite Jeffrey. “When I was doing a show about a year ago, we had some similar shit happening on set.

“There was this Alpha, and anytime he had a scene with one specific Omega, he lost his shit. Red-eyed, teeth bared, she needs to fucking obey me now, kinda shit losing. The Omega was the same way, but you know, in an Omega kinda way. Gold eyes, super  _ reactive _ , if you know what I mean, real sensitive to smells and all that shit.”

Jeffrey waved his hand in the air, “And this is relevant to the situation here, how?”

“I only heard about it afterwards, but, they barricaded themselves into one of the sets one day, and I guess spent a solid 24 hours fucking the shit out of each other. They’re mated now. One of the strongest bonds I’ve ever seen, actually.”

By the time Jon looked back to Jeffrey, he  _ almost  _ pissed himself. Deep crimson eyes, a snarl on his lips, and body tense. “If you’re trying to tell me what I think you’re trying to tell me, you need to shut your  _ fucking mouth _ .”

“I understand, I really do,” Jon said, his eyes intense, “But I think we need to shove those two together somewhere or something. They need to figure it out. If they’re mates they’ll fuck each other stupid. If they just fucking hate each other, they can beat each other senseless. At least they’ll know, and all this goddamn tension can go away. I’m pretty sick of wondering what’s gonna happen next. Aren’t you?”

Standing up from the sofa, Jeffrey walked over to the small table in the corner, drawing his fingers across the surface. “Jesus, man,” he scowled, lifting his hand and showing the red stains on his fingers to Jon. “Don’t you ever clean this place?”

“Uh. No?”

Jeffrey laughed. He shrugged his shoulders, and sighed loudly, looking over at Jon, who was perched on the end of the couch looking like he was expecting a physical blow at any second. “Say I agree with you, and I don’t think you’re fucking dumb as shit for even  _ suggesting _ that Andrew and Norman could be mates. What do we do about it?”

Jon relaxed a bit, and ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, the whole locking them into a room by themselves thing works in the movies. Could do that.”

“No. Norman won’t fall for it. He’s too on edge right now.”

“I’m having a party at the end of the week. I rented a place, and there’s a pool house, sort of. Not very big, but it’s got a couch in it. A fridge. Norman like to swim?”

“He does.” Jeffrey squinted at Jon, and pointed a finger at him. “I’ll go along with this. Only because I’ve seen something similar in the past, myself. But if this goes sideways, and Norman gets hurt? You’ll be just as fucked as  _ Prick. _ Got me?”

Jon’s eyes widened, and he gulped. “Yeah, man. I gotcha.”


	8. Too Close

God, what Norman wouldn't give to just jump headfirst into that goddamn water.

His eyes scanned the pool before him, from where he was leaning against the bar, a beer in his hand. He was taking it light. Still had to drive home because like hell was he going to be stuck here overnight, especially with it being past midnight already.

Tilting his head back, he took another gulp or two, then sighed to himself. Jeffrey had gone home with Hilarie and Gus today. Said that he needed to be a 'big boy’ and shit. Norman stared into the can, shaking it to watch the amber liquid swirl around.

There were plenty of noises and voices to distract him. Music was on, and the sound of splashing. Just about everyone was having a good time. His blue eyes flicked up again. There was a game of water volleyball that had turned into a 'don't let the ball touch the water or you're dead’ kind of game, where they just smacked it around to each other. A few women were stretched out on towels and chatting with each other, finally able to enjoy the heat without several layers of clothing to sweat through.

Unlike Norman, who was still in a t-shirt and shorts.

When it came to swimming with his Alphas and friends, he would challenge whoever he could to a race. But here, all he could think about was if they saw his scar.

They would ask questions. Norman has pups? Where's his pups? Where's the sire? Was Jeffrey the sire? Did he want more pups? A hell lot of personal questions he didn't feel like answering tonight.

In all honesty, he wouldn't even be here if Steven hadn't convinced him, since it would just be the cast and no strangers like at a bar. But another reason why he didn't want to go was because of the Alpha in the water, enjoying himself immensely.

Andrew.

Norman lifted his head and rubbed against his throat, wincing at the still tender bruise. He was lucky he didn't end up with a concussion or aggravating the plates and screws in his head from the semi from being slammed into the ground. But he’d had a monster headache for days. It had made him just crawl into the wardrobe when he wasn't being filmed, turn off all the lights and try to not make a sound.

There had been multiple times where Andrew had tried to approach him, sometimes with an ice pack as a peace offering, but Norman just scared him off with a snarl or a glare. He would be so worked up that half the time, Jeffrey had to fuck him once they got home because he was too angry to think of anything else.

Jeffrey had also taken to staring. Not that Norman really minded Jeffrey’s eyes on him, made him hot to be honest, but the way he was staring was different. Like he knew something Norman didn’t. The worst part was, he was doing it on set, too. To  _ Andrew. _ As far as Norman knew, Jeffrey didn’t want anything from Andrew. The exception being, maybe, permission to beat the shit out of him, and not get an assault charge.

Snorting quietly, Norman wandered away from the bar, and toward the thrown open doors. The property Jon had rented was massive. The house itself wasn’t anything too special, but the land... Had to be at least 10 acres, not that he knew what an actual acre was, and there were no neighbors for miles. Just the sound of  _ outside. _ Nothing like New York. Couldn’t get silence in New York unless you paid millions of dollars for it, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to do that. Norman thought he might be starting to appreciate all the things Daryl loved about the Georgia countryside.

Wandering aimlessly around the pool house, Norman breathed in deeply. The scents of all the people fucking around inside were muddled out here. Mixed together with the scent of nature. The long grass at the edge of the woods, the jasmine that was planted at the back of the house, and something he couldn’t quite name. If he was forced to put one to it, he’d probably just say,  _ Georgia _ .

Moving farther away from all the noise, Norman noticed a tire swing hanging from a large oak. He’d always wanted to try out a tire swing. Rubbing his hands together and grinning, he decided now was the time.

Throwing one leg into the large tire, he grabbed onto the rope, and slowly maneuvered his other leg until it was inside, too. Swinging his legs, he managed to build up some okay momentum, and he enjoyed the wind blowing through his short hair as he swung back and forth.

He always wanted a tire swing when he was young. If he didn’t live in New York City, where there wasn't a tree in miles to hang a swing from, with the exception of Central Park, he wouldn’t have hesitated to put one up. But he was here, might as well enjoy the freedom while it lasted.

“Looks like you need a push.”

The voice made his entire body stiffen up, eyes widening. That voice.

Norman started, and his movement unbalanced the tire, causing it to spin. He cursed under his breath and dug his toes into the earth, turning around to glare at Andrew for disturbing him.  “Left ‘cause I needed a break from everyone. Can’t take a fucking hint, can you?”

Andrew shrugged, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his swimming shorts. He was shirtless, skin still shining with pool water. “I got out of the pool, and noticed you’d gone. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Norman’s fingers tightened on the tire, and he felt a small stab of pain in his left hand. “What the fuck, fuckin’ ouch!” he yelled, lifting up his hand to see that the steel belts inside the tire had partially broken through the rubber. “Stupid, unsafe fucking tire,” he cursed, holding his wrist to further examine the sluggishly bleeding wound.

Feeling a hand settle on his shoulder, Norman sucked in a deep breath, which was probably a really bad decision on his part. Andrew was standing right behind him. His hand was on Norman’s fucking shoulder, and Andrew was pulling on him, using the momentum of the tire to swing him around to face Andrew.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his blue eyes looking almost black in the darkness. Andrew reached out and picked up Norman’s hand, clicking his tongue softly under his breath. “You’re bleeding,” he whispered.

Norman stared at Andrew’s hand cradling his own. Slowly, like he was afraid Norman would bolt, Andrew lifted his hand up to his mouth and flicked his tongue out over the small wound. Andrew raised his eyes, and looked directly into Norman's, his mouth falling open in a sudden hard pant.

“Norman,” he murmured, a groan on the edge of his words, before bending his face back down to Norman’s hand, and laving his tongue across the wound once more.

Norman's stomach had twisted itself inside out by the third lick, and his own mouth had dropped open as he focused entirely on the feel of Andrew’s tongue. Watching it peek out of his mouth to run over the soft slit of the wound. The traces of saliva it left behind… His insides were tangling up in knots, but he couldn't make himself move.

Instead, his hand trembled within Andrew's grasp, never pulling itself away. That is, until he caught a glimpse of Andrew's eyes.

Deep, Alpha red.

His heart lurched into his throat as Andrew continued licking at his palm, a soft growl rumbling in his throat, and his hands tightening on Norman's to prevent him from moving. But hell, it wasn't going to keep him there.

Feeling his own eyes begin to burn - as well as his insides - Norman pulled hard against Andrew's grip, hissing when the Alpha didn't let go. “Lemme go!” Norman growled out, only to hear the Alpha’s rumbling growl get louder in return.

No, he wasn't going to deal with this Alpha shit again. Not when he was alone.

Finding no other option, Norman’s other hand balled up, and he landed a glancing blow to Andrew’s cheek. It only distracted the Alpha for a moment, but that was all Norman needed to get away. Tearing his hand out of Andrew’s grasp, Norman struggled to free himself from the tire swing that had now become more like a prison.

It ended with the tire flipping over and dumping his ass on the ground, but even then, he didn’t care. Struggling to his feet and out of the dirt, Norman whipped around and let out a loud, animal snarl when he saw the Alpha advance. Andrew visibly flinched at the sound, ducking his head and pressing his palm against the reddened flesh on his cheek.

Hoping that Andrew would heed his warning, Norman turned and fled from the tire swing. He needed to get back with other people. If he was in the group, they would make sure he would not be caught alone with Andrew. He needed witnesses.

Following the scents and the voices, Norman raced his way back to the pool. In the little time he had to look at his surroundings, Norman saw that the pool was nearly empty, and most of the cast had left to go inside the house.

He only had a small amount of time to see, as within seconds of turning the corner, he clumsily tripped over a pair of shoes someone had left right beside the edge of the pool. One moment he was desperately attempting to regain his balance, the next he landed with a giant splash into the water, catching everyone's attention.

Disoriented, Norman was underwater for a few moments before he remembered which direction was up, and he burst up from the surface, coughing.

“I think you need to work on your form, Norman!” he heard Steven snickering while he tried to blink the chlorine out of his stinging eyes. “I'd have to give that a three out of ten.”

“...Well good thing I ain't trying to impress you,” Norman grunted, forcing a smirk onto his face. With more of his vision clearing, he was able to look up at the numerous cast members laughing and chuckling, making blood rush to his cheeks in embarrassment. A few of them came to the edge of the pool, lips still twitching with mirth, to reach over and help pull him out of the water.

Oh yeah, the water.

Norman looked down at himself with a soft groan, knowing that he had in fact not brought any other clothes with him. He had been wearing swimming trunks beneath his shorts, yes, but his shirt was absolutely soaked through. Unless he wanted to be topless except for the leather jacket he had worn while on his bike, he was going to be stuck in this shirt.

Glancing back up, Norman reluctantly grabbed onto Steven and Jon’s hands, using them as leverage to pull himself out of the pool. He could hear the water dripping off of him and onto the concrete.

“We were gonna go eat, but you may want to get out of those clothes, first,” Steven teased, while the other cast members was followed Jon into the house. Unsure whether or not they were physically leaving to eat or just chilling at Jon's house, Norman just vaguely nodded.

Happy with this answer, Steven flashed a smile before following the rest inside. It left Norman out by the pool, alone.

Well shit. Norman took a few moments to look around him, squinting. Everyone had gone inside, he hoped… if he was quick enough, no one would come out to check on him. Maybe if he just tried to wring out the water from his shirt, it would be suitable enough to come back inside. He could just ditch the shorts for the trunks underneath. They were made to be wet. They’d dry quickly, right?

Giving a final glance around him, Norman circled the pool, trying to stay out of sight of the glass doors just in case someone was looking at him. Watching the Omega undress… wouldn't be the first time. Norman huffed as he found a suitable spot, then grabbed at the hem of his shirt, starting to peel it off of his skin.

That shirt was quickly tossed onto the concrete with a wet slap, and his shorts followed. It left him in burgundy swim trunks, water dripping down his body.

Since was sure no one was watching, he couldn't help but press his hand against his lower stomach, his thumb stroking across the scar of his C-section. 

That day had been one of the most terrifying, agonizing, and happiest days of his life.

It had started with him barely able to get out of bed, only to collapse in pain in the living room. Then the bleeding had started. There had been some bleeding off and on during the last trimester, which had forced Norman onto bedrest, but it had become much, much worse, starting to hemorrhage.

Norman shook himself, trying to rid himself of the memory. He could have died. Could have bled out if… shit. He hated thinking about it. Hated thinking about how they almost had to remove his entire uterus. Hated it when the doctors told him that being pregnant again could be dangerous and was told he should not attempt it again. Hated that he couldn't have heats like any normal Omega.

Hated that the last time he tried ended so horribly. It was a sucking, gaping wound the doctors weren’t able to stitch shut.

He was so lost in thoughts about his pregnancies and Mingus that he didn’t notice Steven until the Beta was standing right next to him. Whatever Steven had been attempting to say was cut off by a yelp, and Norman almost jumping out of his skin.

“Sorry,” Steven said, placing a steadying hand on Norman’s shoulder. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He hesitated for a moment, and Norman could see his eyes flicking down to his stomach. The Omega visibly tensed, an instinct that would probably never leave him.

Looking back up to his face, Steven hesitated before asking, “You’ve got a kid?”

Norman eventually relaxed, managing a smile as he ran his finger over the scar once again. “Yeah. He’s fucking awesome. Just about the same age as Chandler.”

“Cool. You should invite him down here sometime. They can tear up the set together.”

Norman barked out a surprised laugh, his smile widening, and becoming more genuine. “Dude, you don’t know what you’re asking for. Ming would destroy this place if he put his mind to it.” 

“Ming?” Steven said, his head tilting. Norman could almost hear the gears trying to turn, to figure out why Norman would name give a child a Asian name. “...Interesting name.”

“Mingus,” Norman corrected proudly, holding out his arm to show off his tattoo. “Named him after the jazz musician. He’s living up to his name, too. Best kid I could’ve ever hoped for.” 

Then that thought entered his head again, and he visibly deflated. Hanging his head, Norman sighed, unconsciously touching the edge of his scar. “Good thing, too. Probably not going to be able to have any more.”

Steven winced, and squeezed Norman’s shoulder. An Omega without the ability to have pups was often seen as useless. Norman wouldn't doubt that it was still a common thought. “That sucks, man. I’ve got a friend who has problems like that.” Steven reddened, and stammered out, his eyes widening, “I mean, not that you have problems or anything, I don’t want to assume…”

Norman huffed out a loud breath, and slapped Steven on the back. “Don’t worry about it.” As Steven’s eyes remained locked with his, Norman realized that he was waiting for a story.

Trying not to groan, Norman started to explain. “I had a rough time with Mingus. I was sick almost the whole time, could barely get out of bed. Stuff wasn't working the way it should. Was on bed rest for a couple months towards the end, and there was a shit ton of bleeding.”

His voice turned quiet, and he swallowed. Tearing his gaze away from Steven, he instead stared at the water, at the moonlight reflecting off the surface. “Both of us almost died. Docs said it’s not a good idea for me to have any more pups. As much as I’d like to. ...Tried to.”

An awkward silence hung between them, and for a moment, Norman feared that he had said too much. Having pups was what he was born to do. Literally. If he couldn't bear pups, then there was no use in him.

As the ache started to tangle it’s way into his heart, Steven shook his head. His eyes remained soft, but not with pity. Just gentleness and caring.

“I feel like I’m repeating myself, but I can’t think of anything else to say. That really sucks, Norman. I’m sorry,” Steven said, and his apology sounded sincere. Even if Norman wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. Bringing it up? It was bound to happen eventually.

Shaking himself once again, Norman forced a smile onto his face. “Shit happens, man. I got an awesome son. Lot of people don’t even get to have that. I’m lucky.”

“That’s a really good way to look at it,” Steven said, smiling. “Still sucks, though.”

Chuckling, Norman wrung out his shirt, and put it back on, wincing at the feel of the still wet fabric against his slightly chilled skin. “Yeah. Still sucks.”

“Let’s go inside, huh?” Steven said, waving his hand in the direction of the sliding glass doors. “Jon made some chicken thing. Well, I say made when I should really say ordered. Looks good, whatever it is.”

“Yeah,” Norman said, slinging an arm around Steven’s shoulders. “I could eat.”

For the rest of the night, Norman let himself relax, chatting and having fun with the rest of the cast. But he always watched from the corner of his eyes, taking in sharp breaths to ensure that he would not run into  _ that man _ again. Even with all that carefulness, though, Norman could not shake the burning on the back of his neck, like he was being watched.

What he couldn't explain was the reason why he didn't just leave. As if… The thrill of being hunted had taken full control of him.

\---

Fingers drummed along the shell of his laptop, frustration making them tap a little harder than usual. He stared at the screen,  eyes flicking to the dots sitting right beside the names of his contacts.

Jeffrey was offline. He never was offline. The guy was almost as connected to his phone as Norman was. He normally was up late at night or early in the morning to take care of Gus. Heaving a long sigh, Norman shifted himself off of the bed, scooping up his phone in the process.

He had just gotten home an hour ago, and it was about three in the morning. Norman may be a night owl, but he still wanted sleep. The same sleep that was eluding him. He was much too restless, anxious. Just jumpy, in general. His head was buzzing and his insides were twisting into knots.

Looking back to his bed, he narrowed his eyes at it. No, it was the bed.

Setting the laptop onto his nightstand, Norman circled the bed. The blankets were a mess. But he liked them a mess. There were pillows surrounding the edges, but they constantly fell off the bed when he tried curling up to them. There was a solution to that.

With a loud grunt, the mattress landed on the floor, and Norman grabbed onto the edge again. Where was he going to put this… somewhere small. Cozy. Out of the bedroom. He didn't like the bedroom.

Spare room. It was more of a storage room than anything else but it had a closet, one that opened up. If he could fit the mattress through the door…

By the time Norman had picked up the laptop again, there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and a bottle of water tucked under his arm. Thrown over his shoulder was the last of his blankets, successfully moving himself to the spare room.

Even once he stepped into the room, his entire body felt more at ease. The actual room had to be half the side of the bedroom, with only one window that he had covered up with his curtain. There were no night stands or shelves, just open floor. Or what would have been open if the mattress didn't take up almost the entire space.

The mattress had mounds of pillows on it, forming a wall, while the blankets were strategically placed to be both laid upon, but also tucked into. He had already slipped the laptop charging cord between the pillows so that it rested close by, and tossed atop the pile was his phone.

There were other things, too. Jeffrey's jacket, Gus's baby blanket, Jensen's sweatshirt… Made it much more comfortable.

He reached over and picked up the small alarm clock just on the edge of the nest, checking the time. Past 4. Almost 5. Letting out a huff, he looked around the small space, and could not see a speck of carpet. Good. It was  _ almost  _ perfect.

Maybe if he got a mini fridge so he wouldn't have to leave and would have water nearby… Wait, no he was losing focus again. Jeffrey. Did he get his ass online? Dropping the last of the blankets down and the sealed water bottle, he tilted the laptop to look at the screen.

Green dot.  _ Online. _

Without even thinking, Norman pressed the call button, even though he knew it was exceedingly early. To make a call. But he already missed his Alpha. Now more than ever.

As he waited for Jeffrey to pick up, Norman set the laptop onto a stack of pillows and stepped into his new bed, squirming his way beneath a few of the lighter blankets. The rest were bundled beneath his head and beside his back, letting him lean into them comfortably.

Swiping a pillow from the mound, he nestled his face against it and kneaded into the plush comfort, and waited for either the call to go unanswered or for Jeffrey to pick up.

After a few more seconds, the call was answered, and Jeffrey’s face appeared on the screen after a few seconds. He was rubbing his eyes, and squinting into the camera.  _ “Norman? What fucking time is it?” _

“Like…” Norman glanced down at the phone cradled against his body, pulling one hand off the pillow to pick it up. “4:49AM. I can't sleep. Entertain me.”

Jeffrey scowled, and flipped off the screen.  _ “I’ve got a baby to take care of, and an audition in the morning. Can’t you entertain yourself? Jerk off or something, Jesus.” _

Letting out a low groan, Norman rolled himself onto his back, stretching his limbs out and hearing them give a satisfactory pop. “I don't wanna jerk off. And half the time you're awake at this time anyway 'cause of Gus.”

_ “Well, I got fucking lucky, and he’s asleep. Like Hilarie is. And I  _ was _. And you  _ should _ be.” _

Huffing, Norman wrapped his arms back around the pillow, squeezing it within his arms. It was filled with beads, almost like a mini bean bag. It was satisfying to squeeze and knead and do just about anything with. The poor pillow was years old at this point. “Wanted to tell you I got back safe from the party. Didn't drink much.”

Jeffrey let out a low rumble of approval.  _ “Good. Did Lincoln fuck with you?” _

A scowl crossed Norman's face at the sound of his name, and his fingers sank into the pillow. “I was by myself and the bastard snuck up on me.” Glancing back down to his hand, he lifted it to show his palm to the camera. It had already stopped bleeding at the party, and he had wound it up with gauze just to be safe. “I got cut and he tried to  _ lick  _ that shit up.”

Jeffrey cursed, turned to the blanket covered mound beside him, and spoke, too low for Norman to hear. Then he picked up the laptop and moved out into the kitchen, flipping on lights as he went, and squinting into the brightness. He set the laptop down, braced his arms on the counter, and looked into the screen, his eyes hard.  _ “Tried? Or  _ did _?” _

Details, details. Of course Jeffrey wanted to know more. But he winced at the light that had filled his screen, stuffing his head into the numerous blankets. Finally he surfaced again. “Well, he got like two or three licks. But he started getting all Alpha so I fucked off. 'm about ready to complain of sexual harassment.”

_ “You sure about that?” _ Jeffrey asked, his eyes roaming around the screen.  _ “That’s not your bedroom. Did you make yourself a nest? Are you going into heat?” _

Norman visibly flinched, squishing himself down again. His light blue eyes darted to the pillow, then forced himself to release it. “...it's just temporary. I'll probably move it back in the morning,” he muttered, deliberately trying to avoid the question.

_ “Norman. Do me a favor, and don’t treat me like I’m fucking stupid, okay? Answer the damn question.” _

Another flinch, and Norman couldn't look back at the screen. He hoped not. Hoped that this was just him finally getting used to the new apartment. He had no reason to be in heat. Was he triggering one? But how?

His heats were near impossible to trigger, but this would be the second time in a month that he was in danger of one. The first time had been snuffed out thanks to Jeffrey. But now...

“I… I don't know,” Norman admitted, still unable to look at the screen. “I don't really got a reason to be. I'm just… I dunno.” Without realizing it, his hands had grabbed onto the pillow and started kneading it like a cat.

His sharp eyes likely not missing a single movement his friend made, Jeffrey sighed.  _ “You need to tell me if it happens, Norman. It’s not a good idea for you to go through that alone. Somewhere unfamiliar.” _ He sighed again, running his fingers through his scruffy beard.  _ “Promise me you’ll let me know if it happens.” _

“If I gotta, I'll take a flight home,” Norman assured him, finally looking back up at the screen. “I'll figure out a way to get home. I'll make Hilarie take care of two pups,” Norman snickered, a bit of warmth in his eyes.

Jeffrey smiled, and nodded.  _ “You know she won’t mind. She misses you. Got that damn sweatshirt you left here on 24 hours a day. And then she complains to me that it doesn’t smell like you anymore.” _ He laughed, and looked over his shoulder.  _ “Speak of the devil.”  _

Hilarie moved into the frame, draping herself over Jeffrey’s shoulder. Her hair was nothing more that a wild mass of tangles around her head, but Jeffrey looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world.  _ “Norman. You doing okay, sweetie?” _

A soft gasp slipped from him as he caught sight of her, immediately reaching over and dragging the laptop closer. “Hil!” he grinned, his face lighting up. “So much better since you came over. Jeffrey says I gotta re-scent my sweatshirt for you,” he snickered, curling his arms around the pillow.

Lifting her arm and flapping the overlong sleeve at the camera, Hilarie nodded happily.  _ “Please! Then I can stop aggravating Jeff about it. You’d make his life much easier.” _ She grinned at Jeffrey, and placed a quick kiss on his nose.  _ “He gets all angsty when I complain, and he can’t fix it.” _

Jeffrey snorted, and wrapped a long arm around Hilarie’s waist, dragging her onto his lap. He nuzzled his face into her wild hair, and said,  _ “You know you love it when I get all angsty. It makes you hot.” _ He punctuated his last word with a small nip to her ear, and Hilarie giggled, swatting at him.

It was moments like this that made Norman wish he could choose to never leave New York. He took in a deep breath, trying to not show his disappointment that he couldn't smell them. Couldn't smell Hilarie's excitement, Jeffrey’s adoration, their love… “Hil, I don't think you really want Jeff to have an easy life. I think you like tormenting him too much. God knows I do.”

_ “Life would not be the same without a Jeffrey to torment, that is true.” _ Hilarie was opening her mouth to speak again when a cry sounded from the depths of the house.  _ “That’ll be Gus wanting to be fed. He’s a little glutton, Norman, you should see him. He even makes little piggy noises!” _

Jeffrey laughed, and nodded his head.  _ “He does. Little snorts. It’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” _ Jeffrey looked over at Hilarie.  _ “You got him?” _

Brushing her lips over Jeffrey’s forehead, she nodded.  _ “Love you, Norman. We’ll talk again soon, promise?” _

“'Course we will. Maybe not at four AM next time.” Melting into the pillows, he blew her a quick kiss. “Give Gus my love, Queen. Love you, too.”

Hilarie’s form melted back into the darkness and Jeffrey stared after her. “ _ I’ll never get over how lucky I am, I swear.” _ He looked back at the screen, and pointed a finger at Norman. _ “And if I do, you’ve got permission to kick my ass.” _

Norman let out a laugh, his face breaking into a wide grin. God, he loved them. Endlessly. They were his world. “I'm holding you to that. I know you said you ain't ready yet, but dude, you gotta have more pups. Gus is so fucking cute I can't handle it.”

_ “Can I just deal with this  _ one _ first? Maybe wait until he’s walking and wiping his own ass?” _

Norman couldn't hold back another laugh, letting the warmth spread through his body. “I'm starting the timer. You got like… three years to get that knot ready for another pup.”

Jeffrey groaned, and buried his face in his arms. Tilting his head so he could look at Norman with one eye, he let out a small huff of laughter.  _ “Go bother Jared and Jensen. They just got married, and they don’t have  _ any _.” _

Eyes widening as if the world had just opened up before him, Norman gave a quick nod. “Operation: Make Jared and Jensen have a shit ton of pups for me to snuggle is a go, Commander,” he snickered, shifting himself within the nest of blankets and pillows. 

That nagging thought spoke in the back of his head, but he pushed it away. No need to talk about that. He and Jeffrey had too many years, and too many conversations about pups, and he would much rather forget his own predicament. Permanently.

_ “God, you’re going to drive them crazy aren’t you? Hell, as long as it’s not me.” _ Jeffrey said, pulling his head out of the circle of his arms, and resting his chin on the countertop. His eyes went wide then, and he quickly sat up and said, _ “Don’t tell them it was my idea.” _

“I'll take full responsibility for the huge-ass pack that's gonna be running around the set,” Norman said, his eyes softening with his smile. That had always been a wish of his, to see their pack grow. It may take a while, but eventually it  _ would _ happen.

Opening his mouth to speak again, Jeffrey’s words were stolen by an enormous yawn.  _ “Fuck,” _ he said, when his jaw was back to its normal position. _ “I’ve got to be up in like two hours to get ready to go.” _

The yawn infected Norman maybe a few seconds later, stretching his jaws. He almost didn't hear Jeffrey's voice, still trying to blink away his sleepiness. “Yeah, I should let you go. Maybe I'll take your advice and jack off a bit to get to sleep,” Norman said with a mischievous grin.

Jeffrey shook his head, and smiled widely at the screen.  _ “You do that, kitten. Think of me,” _ he said, his voice low, and rumbling in just the right way.

Immediately Norman's eyes flushed gold, and he swallowed at the sound of Jeffrey’s voice. “Shit, Sugar, you're gonna make me go into heat right here,” he chuckled, his own voice rasping.

A thin ring of red started bleeding through into Jeffrey’s dark irises before he turned his head to stare back in the direction Hilarie went. He turned back to the camera, and shrugged.  _ “Sorry, Norman. I’m being summoned. You’ll have to make due without me this time.” _

“Gonna put your going-away present to damn good use,” Norman chuckled, swiping his tongue over his lips. “Go get practicing to make me some pups. I think I got it covered here.”

_ “That’s my boy,” _ Jeffrey grinned. _ “I’ll talk to you soon. Remember what I said.” _

“Mhm, make Jared and Jensen start breeding. Got it.” A sly smile came to Norman's face, but he nodded anyway. “I know, Jeffrey. I'm gonna be careful. Tell Hil that I'll get her sweatshirt nice and fresh again when I get home.”

Jeffrey rolled his eyes, but a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth.  _ “I will. G’night, asshole.” _

“I'd say the same, but I'm pretty damn sure you're gonna get a good night either way. Talk to you later, tiger.” Giving a quick wink to the camera, Norman reached over to the laptop and pressed the button to end the call.

He was only allowed a few moments of happy peace before he was quickly reminded of the bulge in his pants. “Shit,” he swore softly, palming himself through the sweatpants. The last thing he wanted to do was jerk off in his nest, just as he got everything perfect, and then have to tear it all apart because everything got covered in slick and come.

But he had to christen this nest somehow, and if Jeffrey wasn't going to be here for it…

“Fuck it,” he muttered to himself as he leaned across the blankets, pawing through the piles of pillows. There were plenty of hiding places for all his things, and he was going to make full use of every inch.

Once he felt the slick shaft, he mentally celebrated his success as he pulled the steel blue dildo out from between the pillows, butterflies already fluttering in his stomach just at the sight of it. It was on the larger size, obviously based it off of an Alpha, but Jeffrey knew exactly how he liked it.

A growl rumbling in his chest, he darted his gaze around the nest. Which of these blankets did he like the least that he was willing to get slick all over it?

Deciding on a basic gray blanket, he yanked it free from the rest and flattened it down over the nest, already noticing an anticipatory tremble in his hands. His own body was rushing with heat, and he collapsed onto his back with a shallow gasp.

If he didn't think he would be going into heat soon, there was very little doubt now as he started pulling down his sweats, one hand already going to his erect cock and giving it a deliberate stroke. This wasn't going to take long at all, judging by the precome already beading at the tip.

All it took was the voice of his Alpha, those eyes…

Kicking off his sweats, he allowed a groan to slip from him as his other hand reached down to his opening, already feeling his slick. Jeffrey was right that he was quite a whore for attention, proving it once again as he pressed his finger against it. He grit his teeth together and let his back arch, and it was only once he worked in to the first knuckle that his breath came out in a sharp pant.

Jeffrey wouldn't be gentle with him. Jeffrey would fuck him rough. Would stretch him, leave him gaping and dripping. That was exactly what he was going to do.

With a long hiss, he pushed his finger in deeper, crooking it in a desperate attempt to stretch quickly. He could feel his slick already coating his finger, making it much easier to work in deeper to the second knuckle.

Jolting, Norman growled as he rubbed against a very sensitive bundle of nerves, and with no hesitation, he worked in the second. He already knew what that sensitive part was. His heat. His body was already preparing, anticipating,  _ waiting _ for an Alpha to take him.

It also meant that he just had to get knotted. Even if it was only a dildo.

But he had to think of his Alpha. Right now, he could be ravaging Hilarie, making her cry out his name over and over and over again. His teeth would connect to flesh, leaving bites that would not fade anytime soon. But it was on Norman that he could really let himself free.

Bruising his body, scratching him, snarling and growling, pure animalistic instinct and brute strength. A fight that would always end with Jeffrey slamming him down, teeth deep in his flesh, cussing and snarling. Jeffrey's cock slamming into him, ruining him…

With every thought, he pushed his fingers in and out of himself, and after just enough prep, slipped in the third. His other hand was now stroking his shaft at a feverish pace, running his fingers up to the head.

Jeffrey would knot him so good… knew exactly how hard to tug against him, just enough to bring up that stretch. Clenching his eyes shut, he growled as he realized his fingers were as deep as they were going to go.

Releasing his cock, he reached feverishly for the dildo, only now realizing that he should have taken the time for lube. But hell, he was dripping slick. If he wasn't lubed enough, then fuck it.

He pulled his fingers out with a yelp, now feeling the empty ache deep inside. Norman messily smeared his own slick across the head of the dildo, and after trying to press it inside for far too long, he finally managed to work in the head.

But he still felt empty. Needed it to go deeper. Jeffrey would go deeper. Jeffrey would scratch into his hips, bite his shoulders…

Norman would reach back and grab a handful of his thick hair, deep brown curls, and he'd look back into those sky blue eyes…

Shit, no, brown.  _ Brown eyes.  _

Norman's breathing hitched as he chased the other man away from his fantasies. The dildo was pushed in further, gradually filling him back up. It filled him with relief, something his frayed nerves desperately needed. Heat was going to be a nightmare if he was already this bad. He needed to get on suppressants  _ now  _ to try and avoid it.

But Jeffrey would take care of him either way. Dragging in and out, the head of his cock catching on his rim just right, and then that knot… that beautiful knot. Shaking fingers desperately reached down the base of the dildo, all while retaining the rhythm of the thrusts.

His index finger finally ran over the button, but no, not yet. Jeffrey would make him beg for it.

“Please…” Norman whined, his eyes clenched shut and head rolled back against the pillows. “Alpha please…” Then Jeffrey would growl into his ear, call him his kitten. Call him his Omega. His. Only his.

He would say it in that crisp voice, the words flowing like water, in that rasping British-

_ Shit! _

In his struggle to correct himself, trying to regain the rhythm, he sucked in a deep breath and tried to remember Jeffrey's musky scent, of woodsmoke and leather. The smell of the wildness inside him.

But any grasp of that scent was overpowered by something else, heaviness in the air, thick in his lungs… the smell of rain, washing away the musk. Banishing it.

“N-no, no…!” Norman growled out, his fingers fumbling to gain a better grasp. No, he needed to think about Jeffrey! Not that pompous, destructive, snooty, perverted, fucking  _ sexy _ Alpha that wouldn't leave him alone, wouldn't leave his thoughts, his name spinning in his head over and over and over,  _ Andrew, Andrew, Andrew! _

_ Click. _

“Shit, no-”

His yelp broke off into a cry of pain, his fumbling making him press down against the knotting button. Fuck, he wasn't ready, shit, too tight, too tight! The inflating knot, though, would not listen to his pleas, instead locking itself deep within his hole.

Norman let out a long groan, the pleasure overshadowed by the pain of being stretched so suddenly, but he could do nothing but let out a soft whimper at the end. The knot was set on a timer. Jeffrey had set it up for him.

He was stuck with this god damn dildo in his ass for 20 minutes.

As if he needed another reason to hate Andrew.

“Fuuuck…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will feature some new tags: please make sure that you take a look when we update this on Friday! Thank you!


	9. Just a 'Mega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norman had a reason to why he didn't care much for bars. The universe decided to remind him anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains attempted rape

“Hey, I’m heading out, Norman. I’ll see you on Monday?”

Looking up from the beer he’d been nursing for the past hour, Norman saw Steven grinning at him, his eyes glassy. He was definitely a little bit drunk. “Yeah, I’ll be there. You got someone to give you a ride home?”

Steven jerked his thumb back over his shoulder. “Jon’s gonna give me a ride. He lives sort of close to me.”

Norman nodded, shot a little wave at Jon, then turned back to Steven. “See you later, man. Hope you don’t puke.”

His face turning slightly green, Steven winced. “Shit. I never thought about that. Jon!” he yelled, wobbling slightly where he stood. “Why did you make me do those tequila shots?”

Jon threw back his head and laughed. “Put some hair on your balls, boy! Make you into a man!”

Rolling his eyes at the Alpha’s antics, Norman watched them walk out of the bar. The whole, have a drink at the local watering hole thing, was turning into a weekly tradition. They’d come here several times now, so Norman knew all the bartenders by name, and they knew his. It was like a redneck version of ‘Cheers’.

Glancing around to see who was left, he paled. The bar was empty of familiar faces with the exception of Andrew. He’d been brooding in the corner all night, huddled over a glass of something that was probably ridiculously high priced, and suitably British. 

Ever since what Norman had regarded as the ‘incident’ at Jon’s place, the Alpha had been… in a mood. Fuck, screw calling it a mood. He was being an absolute prick. Growling at just about anyone, red eyes almost constantly… And whenever Norman was forced to be within a few feet of him, there was almost always some sort of confrontation.

It was getting to the point that he was afraid it would cost him his job.

Swirling the remains of his beer around the glass, Norman picked up his leather jacket off the stool next to him, and moved to put it on. He had one arm in when he felt a hand land on his shoulder.

“Leaving so soon, ‘mega? Before I had me a chance to get to know ya? That’s not very nice.”

Norman stiffened, and looked at the 40-something man with a generous beer gut standing behind him. The only scent the man gave off was liquor and sweat, and it made Norman’s lip curl in disgust. Tamping down on his natural reaction - flinch, and curl in on himself - he sneered at the man. “No one here worth gettin’ to know.”

Beer Gut laughed, and called over to the 3 men he’d been sitting with all night. “You hear that, guys? The ‘mega here says we ain’t worth gettin’ to know.” He licked his thick lips, and leered back at Norman. “I think me ‘n my boys here could change your mind. How ‘bout we go for a little ride?”

Norman flicked his eyes back to the table where the other men were now standing to move in closer to him. Beer Gut’s hand was still clamped down on his shoulder, and for one panicked second, Norman was positive he was going to puke at the oily scent that was rolling off the man in waves.

“Get your hands off me,  _ dick _ . I’m not no one’s playtoy. I’ll beat the shit out of all of you.”

The other men had pressed in closer now, bracketing Beer Gut. The guy wearing a faded trucker hat leaned in and looked Norman up and down. The Alpha’s nostrils flared, and a chill ran up his spine as Norman realized he was smelling him. His probable oncoming heat was making the suppressants almost worthless in masking his Omega scent.

A growl rumbled in his throat, but the Alpha only grinned down at him. The red grew in his eyes, and he let out a chuckle. “You sure smell good, ‘mega. How ‘bout you let me get a little taste?” 

This could get very bad, very quickly. All four of the men were showing red, and when he glanced back over his shoulder to elicit some help from the bartender, the Beta was nowhere to be seen.

Another large hand was just settling onto his upper arm when a crisp British accent spoke up to his right.

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” Andrew growled, making Norman turn to look back at him. Andrew was standing a few feet away from them, but the men shifted to block him off from physically touching Norman.

This only made Andrew narrow his eyes at the group. Norman only caught his gaze for a moment, flinching at the red that ringed his normally sky blue eyes. The scent of an Alpha defending his territory started to rise into the air, and Andrew's hands clenched into tight fists.

Beer Gut, apparently the de facto leader of their drunken redneck crew, barely even spared Andrew a glance. “Fuck off, asshole. Me ‘n my friends are talking to the ‘mega, here.” He lifted his other hand and traced a finger down Norman’s cheek, ignoring his flinch, and the look of revulsion on the Omega’s face. “C’mon, boy. Let’s go see how fast we can get you to spread for all four of us.”

“It doesn’t look like he’s interested in  _ spreading _ for you,” Andrew snarled. “If you were smart, you’d back away, and let me escort my friend home.”

Beer gut finally removed his hand from Norman’s shoulder, and Norman resisted the urge to reach up and rub at the stinging flesh, where he was sure it was already bruising.

The man rounded on Andrew, and sneered at him. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it, huh?” he taunted. “Pussy.”

Andrew simply arched an eyebrow, and said nothing.

“S’matter fancy boy? Got nothin’ to say? ‘Fraid we’re gonna hafta ask you to butt the fuck out. If you know what’s good for you.”

“I can’t do that,” Andrew said, right before he pulled back his fist, and hit Beer Gut in the face, causing a spray of blood to fly out from his, now broken, nose. 

In an instant, the entire mood shifted from tense to violent. While Beer Gut staggered back, Trucker Hat let out a snarl and lurched himself at Andrew, physically shoving Norman aside. Though even with the other Alpha being much bigger, he was also drunk.

Andrew made quick work of snapping out, sweeping out Trucker Hat’s legs from beneath him and sending him to the ground. Norman recognized the same move from their training sessions on set.

“You little shit…!” Beer Gut snarled, finally recovering somewhat from the punch to the nose. With eyes that now gleamed pure red, he reached out and grabbed Andrew's arm, swinging him around and slamming him against one of the tables.

By now, the other two were clawing at Norman, one wrapping an arm around his neck from behind and the other hand covering his mouth, the other grabbing at the hands attempting to push them off. He was grabbing at Norman's jacket, forcing it off his arm and to the floor. All Norman could feel were their hands, grabbing, touching. Their scents were all over him. They were trying to take him!

Letting his instincts take over, Norman bit down hard onto the Alphas hand, making him shriek in pain and let go suddenly. At the same moment, he violently kicked the other Alpha in the stomach, causing him to drop down to the ground.

Taking in a much needed deep breath, his eyes snapped over to Andrew. The Alpha was struggling to get back to his feet, his teeth gritted together in pain, and his eyes now a bright red.

“C’mere whore,” Beer Gut growled as he swung back to Norman. Hissing loudly, Norman took a step back, only to feel hands at his ankles. Trucker Hat, still collapsed on the ground, jerked hard. The world was pulled out from beneath his feet, and he landed flat on his back, smacking his head against the polished wooden floor.

His vision went white, then turned black, but he could still hear. Could hear the lead Alpha growling orders to hold Andrew down. He could hear Andrew spitting and swearing, grunts as they exchanged blows, but everything went silent when he felt the large hand on his inner thigh.

“Told ya he'd  _ spread _ for me.”

Norman's entire body stiffened and went still. Alpha. The Alpha had pinned him. He could feel the hands still tight on his wrists and ankles, but his body would not obey the will to fight. The Alpha was in control. His instincts were screaming at him to obey.

The other hand reached up, and he could feel fingers running across the fabric of his shirt. It ran down between his pecs, then pressed down against his soft belly waiting to be filled with seed and pups. The Alpha’s growl made his body shudder, and he let out an unconscious whine.

No, no, no, he didn't want it!

“He's  _ beggin’  _ for it, boys! We got ourselves a hot one!”

The hoots and sneers didn't pass by him unnoticed, and the hand pressed in hard, to the point that it hurt.

“Gonna fill ya up, boy.”

Norman could feel breath against his cheek now, but he could only see blackness. Because he refused to open his eyes. He would not give them the satisfaction of seeing the fear in his eyes.

The hand on his thigh tightened its grasp, and then to Norman's horror, felt it run up his thigh and brush against his crotch.

The hand on his chest moved down more, and he could feel the grasp of two sets of filthy hands pawing at his limbs. Andrew was still clawing and spitting, snarling for release, but they paid him no mind. All he could feel was the hand that pulled at his shirt, forcing it up his torso, and the other reaching into the edge of his pants.

“If you're a good 'mega, we won't bite so hard, just wanna make ya-”

The fingers touched his scar, and the hands seized up. The voice stopped.

“...Ah shit, we got a defective 'me-”

The sound Norman heard then was one he heard only once before in his life. It was a howl full of unbridled, pure primal rage, and fury. Norman's eyes snapped open at the sound, just as claws sank into the shoulders of the Alpha trapping him beneath his weight.

Beer Gut was flung to the ground, landing with a heavy thud, and he tried to immediately pull himself back up, but the owner of the claws would have none of that.

It became a blur as hands raked down his back, tearing through the clothes and cutting into his skin, and the drunk man let out a scream as teeth clamped down on the exposed flesh of his shoulder.

The hands on Norman’s wrists released, trying to join the attack on Andrew, who had the man twice his size pinned to the ground. That man joined his buddy on the floor after a well placed punch to the jawbone.

Jolting back to himself, Norman let out a snarl and kicked the Alpha holding his ankles, Trucker Hat, in the face. It granted him his freedom, and the Omega pulled himself to his feet.

Andrew had his jaws tight on the flesh of the Alpha, before suddenly yanking his head up. Blood sprayed from the wound, and Andrew spat a small chunk of flesh out of his mouth. Swinging his gaze around to Norman, the Omega stiffened.

Blood red eyes, blood dripping down his jaws… Andrew looked like an animal. An animal that could turn on Norman at any second.

“A-Andy,” Norman stammered, his voice weak and shaky. He took a step back, bumping against a bar stool, and his legs quivered beneath him. The red eyes blinked, then narrowed again.

Andrew let out a sickening snarl, baring his sharpened teeth, before he suddenly lunged at him.

Only it wasn't at Norman. It was at the fourth Alpha that had been seconds away from getting Norman in a headlock again. They crashed down to the ground, then Norman saw Andrew’s teeth poised right above the man's throat.

“Andy, no!” Norman shouted, his blood running cold at the prospect of Andrew murdering in cold blood. No matter that it was self defense, the last thing he wanted was Andrew getting locked up for protecting  _ him. _

Strangely, the teeth paused right before they sank down, and Andrew let out a soft growl of disappointment.

“Let him go, we gotta get the fuck out before someone calls-”

“You fucking whore!”

A heavy weight smacked into Norman’s back, and he could hear what sounded like wood snapping. It sent him to his hands and knees, pieces of a broken bar stool clattering to the ground around him. He bit back a curse, struggling to get back up, but the steel toed boot that kicked into his side stopped him.

Gasping in pain, Norman tucked his arm hard around his waist in a desperate desire to protect his fragile stomach, but he was rolled onto his back by a foot. He stared back up, eyes widening as he met the bloodied face of Beer Gut.

“Goddamn useless 'mega!”

His boot lifted, then stomped down onto Norman’s stomach, causing his entire body to jerk.

“Barren piece of shit!

The boot crashed down again, even as Norman folded his arms over his stomach, a desperate attempt to soften the blow.

“Only bred out worthless pups, ain't no better than you!”

Another stomp.

“Makes me feel sorry for that fucked up  _ runt _ they cut outta ya!”

The boot rose up again to give one more powerful stomp, only for it to slam down against the polished wood. Rolling away from the attack, and shoving himself up to his knees, Norman snarled and lashed out, his fingernails carving into the bare flesh of Beer Gut’s calf.

Stretching his jaws wide, Norman bit down onto the man's ankle, relishing in the scream of pain. Even as Beer Gut shook his leg wildly, trying to knock him loose from his ankle, all Norman did was bite down harder. Then Beer Gut’s other boot kicked into his ribs, finally knocking him loose.

With a loud snarl, Beer Gut raised his foot to kick at Norman again, and Norman braced himself for the blow, but it never came. Andrew shot around from behind him and slammed his fist into Beer Gut’s face one final time. Beer Gut teetered on his feet, then his face turned blank, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he tipped back and landed hard on the floor.

Norman watched him fall, even as he was desperately trying to spit the bitter taste of blood from his mouth. A hand went to his shoulder, this time trying to pull him up to his feet.

“We need to leave. Now.”

Even with how rough Andrew's voice was, how different it was from his usual calm tones, it still led to a rush of relief through his body. Though the pain of being pulled up chased that relief away.

“Sorry, sorry,” Andrew hissed softly, when Norman winced. His voice was harsh, but the hands on Norman’s body, helping him to stand, were gentle. “We need to go. Before they get back up.”

“Shit,” Norman grunted, managing to get up to his feet. “'m bike.” As if that was enough information for an escape, he pulled against Andrew's grasp and tried to rush for the door. By the time they were out the door, they had broken into a limping run.

When the got to the motorcycle, Norman threw his leg over, a hiss escaping his mouth at the pull on his abused body. Andrew got on behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around Norman’s waist. Norman revved the engine, and tore out of the parking lot as fast as he could, leaving another set of tire marks behind him. Maybe that was getting to be a tradition, too.


	10. Lick Our Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruised and bloodied, the Alpha and Omega return to Norman's apartment. But the aftermath is almost as cruel as the attack itself.

It was raining by the time the motorcycle took up its usual spot in front of the apartment complex Norman lived in. No doubt Andrew already knew; he had been here before, after all. That was not an occasion he wished to think about right now, though.

The rain had done its part to help wash the blood off of their faces, even as it stained their clothing instead. Every stop was painful, every bump in the road jolting what could be broken bones.

Norman had managed to keep himself together for the ride over, but now that the bike had stopped, a wave of sickness came over him, coupled with pain. While the kicks to the gut had not helped matters, the fact that he could have easily been taken by those thugs,  _ violated,  _ and then dumped on the street…

As he turned off the bike, he was beginning to shiver beneath Andrew's still tight arms. Not just from the rain, he was… overwhelmed. Those scents were sticking to him like slime; cigarette smoke, alcohol, sweat, and unfamiliar Alpha that he couldn’t shake off.

Norman would be lying if he said that he was fine. And that his current… condition was not affecting him. Every nerve was on alert, and now was leading to a crash of his body and feeling every one of those blows. It was to the point that the energy to even get off his bike had fled him, leaving him just straddling it and shivering.

Andrew uncurled his hands from Norman’s waist, and pressed a palm against his breastbone. The now gentle British voice spoke softly beside him, dropping to a rumble. “Breathe, Norman. Just breathe.” Andrew started taking in deep lungfuls of air, his chest pressing against Norman’s back, and let them out slow, probably hoping for Norman to do the same. 

Swallowing at Andrew’s words, his head dipped down but he tried to do as he said. One shaky breath, then it came out in a shudder like his body. His knuckles turned white on the handlebars as he tried again, only to choke halfway through taking in the breath.

Moving rapidly, Norman wrenched himself off of the bike and out of Andrew's grasp, stumbling over to the support beam for the porch above them. Barely a moment after getting a hold of it, Norman doubled over and vomited onto the ground. His sides heaved, the shaking only getting worse.

A sob broke from his lips as a wave of pain washed over his body. His ribs ached, his stomach throbbed… He retched again, adding a new layer to the concrete then coughing harshly.

Moving up behind him, Andrew ran a comforting hand up and down Norman’s back, murmuring a string of soothing words under his breath the entire time.

At his touch, the shivering calmed just slightly, but he was still unsteady on his feet. He was far from drunk, as he had barely gone through one beer, but his entire body just ached. Like it was trying to shut down to escape all the pressure and stress.

All he could feel was the disgusting hands that had touched him, touched his thigh, his stomach, his chest, his ankles, wrists, crotch, everywhere…!

“'M sorry,” he coughed out, his head still down. He leaned his shoulder against the support beam, but his breaths were becoming more even, less panicked.

“Nothing to apologize for. I’ve never been in quite that type of situation, but your reaction is understandable.” Andrew’s hand was still moving up and down Norman’s back in long sweeping patterns. “Are you alright? Is there anything I can do for you?”

Not wanting to stare at his own vomit much longer, Norman stood himself up slowly, spitting the last bit of fluid in his mouth onto the concrete. His first instinct was to say no. He wasn't weak. He shouldn't need taking care of.

But then he thought of the times that Jeffrey had to help him out of that same situation, how awful he felt afterwards, unable to forget the touches on his skin, the scents, the eyes... 

“I-I need to… to lie down. Can you…?” Norman trailed off, his mouth going dry with the request for assistance. When he finally glanced back at Andrew, his eyes were glassy and fogged, his face still pale. The same situation kept running through his head.

What if they had taken him? What if he went into heat? What if they could say that he enjoyed it, because of the maddening urge to breed? That thought alone nearly made him puke again.

But he managed to focus his gaze onto Andrew, just enough for his eyes to widen. The Alpha took a  _ heavy  _ beating. There was a thick swelling around his right eye, a split in his lip and a blood streak down from his nose. Then there was the blood that still surrounded his mouth, being the remainder from taking the bite out of the Alpha.

Andrew was squinting against the rain, the droplets running down his face and tinting the water red as they fell to the concrete. Norman swiped his tongue over his lips, only to nearly vomit again as he tasted blood apart from his own. Those disgusting Alphas, he could still  _ taste  _ them, still  _ feel _ them…!

Andrew seemed to sense how he was feeling, because he slid an arm around Norman’s upper back just as his legs gave out. “It’s alright, I’ve got you,” he whispered, nudging at Norman’s arm and prompting him to throw it across his shoulders. “Let’s get you upstairs, shall we? I think a nice bath, and then a lie down will do you a world of good. And I can call Jeffrey when we get inside. He’ll make you feel better, won’t he? Safer?” Andrew stared up at him with wide blue eyes, completely earnest, and probably doing whatever he could think of to make Norman more comfortable.

The thought of hearing another Alpha’s voice, even Jeffrey's, almost brought a sob up his throat. He bit it back just enough, managing to pull his arm slowly over Andrew's shoulders. Glancing up to the stairs, he gave a weary groan. “Want my nest,” he whined softly, straightening his body as much as he could before starting to walk to the steps.

“Soon, Norman. You can get yourself cleaned up a bit, and then you can curl up in your nest. Warm, and safe, and surrounded by the smells of everyone you love.”

Norman had to swallow down a plea to be able to go straight to his nest, knowing that the foreign scents on his body would carry all the way to the blankets. All he could give as a response was a small nod and a grimace at the stairs. It had been hell moving in, bringing furniture up the stairs. But he still trudged on, like he was determined to show Andrew that he wasn't as weak as he appeared to be. Then he followed up his first step with a stumble, cursing at himself.

Andrew tightened his arm around Norman, and grabbed hold of his hand. “Come on, Norman. Just one flight of stairs. Nothing to you, badass extraordinaire that you are. One step at a time, right?”

A soft wheezing laugh came from Norman. He gave another small nod of his head, his eyes setting down on the stairs. “You fuckin’ saved my badass,” he tried to chuckle, his voice falling flat. When he nearly stumbled again, his hand tightened around Andrew's before taking in a deep breath and moving to the next step.

“Not a chance,” Andrew scoffed. “You’d have managed to save yourself if I hadn’t come along. But, I was glad to smooth the process out. If only a little.”

It was Norman's turn to scoff this time, giving a soft shake of his head. But he let the topic drop, now that they’d finally reached the top step. His shivering had intensified at this point, and he leaned heavily against Andrew's side. But he still needed to open the door…

“Shit…” he grunted, pushing his hand into his leather jacket. Eventually he pulled out a string of keys, narrowed eyes glaring down at them until he picked out the right one. “This one,” he rasped, picking it up and holding it out to Andrew while they still walked to his door.

Andrew got one look at the keychain dangling from the key, and seemed to swallow down a bark of laughter. His eyes looking anywhere but Norman, his fingers tightened on Norman’s waist.

Faintly blushing, Norman stared down at the ground and grumbled softly to himself. “Shhhut up,” he wheezed. “Was a present.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Andrew said, still not looking into Norman’s eyes.

Norman was completely flushed, despite the other man staying quiet about the large pink and white cat that dangled off his keychain. He stumbled forward, managing to elbow Andrew's side, and drawing a startled gasp of pain from him.

“M’sorry, I just…” Norman hesitated, and shrugged his shoulders, wincing as he did. “If you knew some of my friends, you’d get the joke.”

After fumbling with the key for several long moments, the door was finally unlocked. Stepping inside, Norman grimaced. His voice was still an unsteady rasp and he refused to look back up at Andrew. Letting an Alpha into his house… What was he thinking? Trying to swallow down his sudden flare of unease, he coughed. “It's a mess. Didn't get a chance to unpack all the way.”

Guiding Norman into the apartment, Andrew helped him settle onto the couch before turning around and locking the multitude of locks Norman had on the door. His eyes flared red momentarily, before settling back into their normal soft blue. “Is this a bad neighborhood, or something? How many locks do you need?” 

“Need that many,” Norman said, closing his eyes and curling into the couch. “Don't like visitors showing up. Don't want people knowing where I live.”

“I guess I can understand that,” Andrew said, walking over to the couch and moving to help Norman back up onto his feet. “Where’s your bathroom?”

A string of complaints was Andrew's first answer. At this point, Norman just wanted to fall asleep and not worry about the rest of the world. He pointed down the small hall to the door at the end. “Right there. Shower and tub are kinda shit, though,” he added.

“Better than getting into your nest smelling like… Well... Better to get into your nest after a shower. Wash away the night.”

Even though Norman knew Andrew was right, it did nothing to stop the complaints under his breath. Allowing himself to lean onto Andrew, he closed his eyes for just a moment. He took in a breath, only to feel his stomach flip.

Still smelled them. Tainting his skin, his favorite jacket… It was so thick that he could barely pick up Andrew’s scent through it.

“Come one. Up you get,” Andrew said, his tone firm. He wrapped an arm around Norman’s waist, and hauled him to his feet, seeming to ignore the string of colorful curses Norman let out. “You’ll feel better after you get cleaned up.”

The movement made his entire body groan out in pain, and every bruise those asshole Alphas put on his body came back with a vengeance. His shoulders, ankles, wrists… The bar stool to his back… He could feel the fingers against his thigh, grabbing and pulling.

Then there was his stomach…

Norman could feel Andrew's gaze on him with every step, but he forced himself to not look up. Not when he could  _ feel  _ the rumble. Feel Andrew's muscles tightening around his shoulders. His teeth clicking as his jaw clenched. By the time they reached the bathroom, Norman had ducked his head, doing all he could to curl himself away.

The light switch to his bathroom clicked on, and Norman's boots clomped against the tile, only for Andrew to stop short. Then the door shut behind them.

“I'll run the bath in a moment,” Andrew murmured, but there was a coarse edge to his voice. It was enough to make a shiver start to pulse up Norman’s spine. “I need you to do something, first.”

The shiver turned to icy pins digging deep into his spine as Andrew continued. 

“Take off your clothes.”

Immediately, Norman ripped himself out of Andrew's grasp, stumbling several steps into the bathroom in a desperate attempt to put space between them. It was when he pulled his head back up to look at Andrew that his body turned rigid.

Pulsing red eyes. But it was a stark contrast to the rest of Andrew's body. The Alpha had taken a step back when Norman forced himself free, and held his hands up and palms facing Norman. Norman's eyes darted up and down Andrew's body, trying to hide his own instinctual trembling beneath the red gaze.

Andrew swallowed, and his eyes pulsed a deeper red. “I won't touch you,” he rasped, even as his hands trembled slightly. “I won't hurt you. I need to see what they did to you...” The words trailed off into a growl, and as Norman pressed himself against the wall, Andrew forced another word, more growl than not, from his mouth. “Please.”

The Alpha made no motion to move closer. Rotating his palms to make sure Norman knew he was empty handed, he stepped back once more and pressed his back to the door. Not realizing that it only made Norman realize there was no escape.

Eyes now ringed gold, Norman threw his gaze across the small bathroom. Was there  _ anything  _ to protect himself with? He used a regular razor for shaving, so that was useless. Towels? Shampoo? No, there was nothing he could use. It left only one option.

Follow the Alpha’s request and hope that he was telling the truth. It was all he could do.

Looking back at Andrew, Norman couldn't hold back a soft whimper, but forced his hands to move. They went to his leather jacket first, unzipping it and letting it fall to the tile floor. It unveiled his arms and shoulders, and already he could hear Andrew's growl growing in volume, and strength.

“Shirt,” Andrew said, his body motionless, and his jaw clenched. His words laced with a low, almost sub-vocal, rumble.

Norman hesitated, forcing his eyes away, only to catch on his body in the mirror. He could  _ see _ bruises in the shape of fingers on his shoulder, and trailing down his arms. Holding up his hands, he saw the rapidly deepening bruises that surrounded his wrists.

The hands, the stench of the 4 unfamiliar Alphas. The lingering feeling of how they’d held him down, their ugly words cutting as deep as their claws…

“Eyes on  _ me. _ ”

Andrew's snarl forced Norman's head up, and their eyes met again. His lips had peeled back into a snarl, his breath coming faster, but when Norman looked back at him, Andrew managed to take in a deeper breath. Then another. The vivid red in his eyes lessened just slightly, and his snarl faded into that sub-vocal rumble again.

“Eyes on me,” Andrew repeated, this time softer. His eyes flicked down to Norman's chest, then back to him.  _ Take off the shirt. _

Without taking his eyes away from Andrew's, Norman blindly reached down to the hem of his shirt. He was still in Daryl’s clothes. Dirty and sweaty from a long day in the Georgia heat. In slow movements, he lifted the fabric and pulled it up over his head. It was only when Norman dropped the shirt onto the floor that Andrew's eyes left his.

Norman didn't need to look at the mirror this time. He already knew there would be blotchy bruising splashed all across his stomach, and he could swear that he still felt the imprint of the boot. His pants, also Daryl’s, hung low on his hips, and Norman self consciously pressed a hand across the scar low on his stomach.

_ ‘Goddamn useless ‘mega! _

_ ‘Barren piece of shit! _

_ ‘Only bred out worthless pups, ain't no better than you! _

_ ‘Makes me feel sorry for that fucked up  _ runt  _ they cut outta ya!’ _

Andrew lifted his hand, but dropped it back to his side seconds later. Like he’d wanted to reach out, but thought better of it. He clenched his fingers into tight fists, and Norman wouldn’t have been surprised if the Alpha now had cuts from his own claws on the palms of his hands. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Andrew growled, his eyes methodically moving from bruise to bruise, only to return to the livid marks on his stomach. He swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat, and slowly unclenched his fists. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. Ever.”

Norman took in a shuddering breath, nearly choking on it. His hand tightened. He attempted to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth. Just… Nothing.

“You don’t need to say anything, either,” Andrew said, raking his fingers through his hair. He looked at his hands when he lowered them from his head. Even from where he was still pressed against the wall, Norman could see the blood staining them.

Andrew’s nostrils flared, and he winced. “You need to wash their scent off or-” He cut himself off, and let out a snarl. Andrew squeezed his eyes shut, and he bit down on the corner of his lip, only to snarl louder. He lifted his hands, and scrubbed roughly at the blood that still surrounded his mouth. “Fuck,” he spit out, a disgusted look on his face.

Dropping his hands, he looked back at Norman, who watched him warily. “I’m going to turn on the water now,” he said, taking a step toward to bathtub. “I need to…” He looked up at Norman, and winced. “I can’t be in here with you any longer without-” Andrew cut himself off again, and pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I can’t be in here any longer.”

Norman opened his mouth again, but this time he managed to work out a few words. “I, uh… I can handle it,” he murmured in a hushed tone, shifting against the wall, trying his best to separate himself from Andrew again. If just to separate the scents. Separate the Alpha instinct.

Tucking his arms around his stomach, he tried to hide away the bruises. “I-I have, uh, clothes you can change into. In the bedroom. Door on the right. Get…” He swallowed this time. “G-get the blood off. The scent.”

Andrew nodded, and dropped to his knees in front of the tub. “How hot?” he asked, looking up at Norman, his head cocked to the side.

The eyes were less red now. Slightly. Just enough to where Norman could relax. ...Also, slightly. “...Hot enough to get it off,” he grunted, looking away and turning back to the mirror.

Smiling slightly, Andrew nodded again. After fiddling with the taps for a few moments, he stood up. Lowering his head, and staring at the floor, Andrew spoke his next words almost too softly for Norman to hear. “Just because you’re an Omega doesn’t mean people get to treat you that way.” He lifted his head, and met Norman’s eyes, his voice stronger. “You’re worth 10 of each of those men.” 

Nodding his head, Andrew moved back out into the hall, reaching for the doorknob. “I’ll be just outside. Let me know if you need any help.” He smiled at Norman then, his eyes soft, and backed out of the bathroom.

All that time, Norman could just stare, as if unsure what Andrew was saying was actually true. Any possibility of a remark died in his throat, instead he watched as Andrew shut the door. He stared for a few moments longer, expecting Andrew to come back at any moment to correct himself, but the door remained firmly closed.

It left Norman alone in the bathroom, with only the mirror and the rapidly filling tub as company. Staring back at his reflection, he began the process of pulling off the rest of his clothing, tossing them to the far corner of the room. If just to not have to look at them. But all he could do was stare back at the mirror.

At the bruises that coated his body. The finger marks followed by nails that carved their way into his skin. The blood on his chin from biting into that ugly Alpha’s leg. But more than that… It was what he couldn't see on his body. The hunger in their eyes, how they closed in around him, each ready to sink their teeth and savagely rip him apart...

Another reminder of how the world saw Omegas.

With little hesitation, Norman slipped his naked body into the tub, letting out a long groan at the heat touching his abused body. His knuckles turned white on the edge of the tub, eyes screwed shut, but he refused to voice any more of his pain than he already had.

All he knew was that he had to get this scent off of him. Their dirty, sweaty hands touching his body..

After a good twenty minutes, Norman finally set down the sponge in slight defeat. All it was doing was hurting his body. Lifting up his head, he quickly realizing that he forgot to take any clothes with him. He surely wasn't going to wear that stuff again. It led to Norman tying the towel around his upper waist, covering up the scar and most of the bruising, then peaked out the door.

Andrew was locking the front door again, now wearing a random set of clothes from Norman's closet. He turned around when he heard the bathroom door open, and his eyes widened. Andrew swallowed, and Norman couldn't help but notice how the red in his eyes had turned into a single ring around the edges. Andrew had calmed down. For now. “I was putting my clothes outside. They had blood, and other things… I thought it would be better if it didn’t stink up your apartment.”

Looking back into the bathroom, Norman hesitated. If he left his clothing in there, the scents would cling to the air, flooding the bathroom, and it would do nothing but cut off his bathroom from use. Something he didn't entirely want to deal with right now. Clearing his throat, Norman nodded his head towards the bathroom. “Can you, uh, do the same with mine?” he asked, his voice soft.

Surprisingly, Andrew did not even say a word, instead crossing the room easily and sliding right past Norman and into the bathroom. The Alpha ensured that he did not touch Norman, giving him a few feet of space even when it was more of a hassle than Norman thought worth the effort.

But Andrew picked up the clothing all the same, even as Norman could see his eyes turning deep red again from the scents. As Andrew made his way back to the door, Norman shied away, and into his bedroom.

The door was left open, mostly because there was very little in the bedroom that was personal. It was now a mess of leftovers from what, he supposed, was his nest. Blankets that he had washed but had not yet layered onto the others. There were multiple sets of clothing strewn around, and Norman acknowledged that the bedroom had become much more of a storage room at this point.

Walking to the closet, he snatched up a loose-fitting t-shirt and fleece pajama pants. Nothing but comfort.

It was only when he slipped on the clothes that he stepped back into the main room, just as Andrew closed the door behind himself. His eyes followed the movements of Andrew’s hands as he locked two out of the four locks. Either to keep anything from getting in or… To keep Norman from getting out. Norman swallowed nervously.

Having noticed Norman’s eyes on his hand, Andrew clarified. “I don't want anyone following us,” he rumbled, his voice low. “Just… I would like to use your shower. If I may. Wash off the scents.” More likely, the blood. It still stained Andrew’s skin, and Norman feared that it now was rubbing off onto his borrowed clothing.

Andrew didn't step away from the door right way. Instead, he pressed his forearm against the wood, sliding it down, then finally stepped away. Marking. Purposefully placing his scent from his hand and wrist. Declaring his territory to those who may try to take it away.

Norman swallowed. This instinct was primal, one he knew too well. A wounded Omega brought the worst out of an Alpha, especially if they’d been touched by other Alphas. They would become territorial, in some cases violent, though Norman doubted Andrew would go that far. And they would make sure their possession would remain just that.  _ Theirs. _

And if that was the case… How could Andrew keep his distance? Norman could see it in his eyes. His near permanent red gaze... The scowl on his lips... The way his shoulders were tense, and his fingers flexing. He was completely on edge.

Not waiting for an answer, one that Norman was having trouble giving, either way, Andrew once again carefully stepped past Norman and into the bathroom. Just as he was about to close the door behind him, Norman blurted something out.

“When you're done-...”

The door stopped, and Andrew gazed through the crack.

Norman swallowed, his face turning pale. “...W-when you're done, I, uh…”

“When I'm finished, if you will let me, I would like to make sure you're alright. Whatever you need me to do.” The door closed with a click, and left Norman standing outside, the unsaid words still caught on his lips.

_ When you're done, I want you to make me forget. _

_ I want you to take what you've won. _

_ I want you to stay with me and protect me. _

_ I want you to own me. _

The words remained unspoken, as Norman buried his instincts again, and waited outside for the Alpha who had saved him. The Alpha that made his instincts scream at Norman to surrender.

His resolve was slipping, and Norman no longer knew how much longer he could hold those instincts back. 


	11. Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instincts only get you so far.

A thick cloud of steam wafted out of the bathroom a couple of minutes later, and Andrew stepped out into the hallway. He looked over at Norman and rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs. His gaze darting from Norman’s eyes to his throat, and back again. He sighed, and his fingers twitched slightly, like they were trying to grasp something just out of reach. “You have to tell me what you want from me, Norman. I don’t want  _ anything _ I do to hurt you more than you’ve already been hurt tonight.”

Norman's eyes were focused on Andrew's, watching them dart to his neck. It was a gaze that could speak volumes, but Norman still wasn't sure on his intent. Was it his scent? Could Andrew smell his possible oncoming heat? Or could he just scent the other Alphas still on him?

Curling his arm around his stomach and trying not to flinch at the pressure, he glanced down to the nest. “You've… Never been with an Omega? Like… like known one? Know what they're like?”

“No. There aren’t many in Britain, I suppose, or I just haven’t run into any. You’re the first Omega I’ve ever met, so I’m…” Andrew looked intently at Norman. He seemed to have composed himself better after his shower, now that the scents were hopefully gone. “I’m going to be honest with you. First though, I need you to know that I would  _ never _ hurt you. Especially like the pitiful excuses for Alphas at the bar did. Alright?”

Norman nodded, awkwardly using his other hand to rub at the back of his neck. Finally his eyes flicked back up at Andrew's, meeting his gaze. “I-I know. And I want you to be honest. That's…” Norman dropped his hand from the back of his neck. “That's the only way to get through this kind of shit.”

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his borrowed pants, Andrew took a deep breath. “I’ve never been around any Omegas, as I said before. Maybe it’s just because you’re the first one I’ve ever been close to, or maybe it’s you, but…” Forcing his eyes away from Norman, Andrew focused on the floor. “I’ve been fighting all sorts of instincts I never even knew I had. From the first minute I met you. It scares the shit out of me, if I’m being honest.”

The Omega remained silent as Andrew spoke, with the Alpha holding his undivided attention. He gave the slightest nod, even though he knew Andrew wasn't looking at him. 

Locking his eyes with Norman, Andrew took a few steps closer. “I don’t know what any of what I’m feeling means, but when I saw those arseholes  _ touching _ you…” A thin ring of red seeped through the outer edge of Andrew’s sky blue eyes again, and he shuddered. “I would never have let that happen. If I had to kill every single one of them.”

“I know.”

It was a reply that probably didn't say a fourth of the things Norman wanted to say. While Andrew was literally pouring his heart out, Norman… The Omega swallowed to the point that it hurt, his hand reaching up and rubbing at his throat.

“You protected me. Protected the ‘mega like any Alpha would.”

Andrew growled, low in his chest, and Norman could just see the tip of his elongated canine peeking out between his lips. “Don’t  _ ever _ call yourself that in front of me. You’re more than that, and if I ever hear those words come out of your mouth again I’ll-” Andrew cut himself off, his breath rapid, and he curled his hands into fists. “Just don’t  _ fucking _ do it. Alright?”

Immediately the eyes looked away, Norman showing just the slightest flinch. It was pure Alpha, pure instinct that Andrew could not yet control. And he was the one doing this to him. His hand tightened on his throat at the thought, and he fought the urge to tell Andrew. Tell him that he  _ wanted _ Andrew’s instincts to come out.

In the bitter silence, Norman looked behind him. The door to his nest was closed. Always closed. No one had been inside that room other than  _ himself. _ But that  _ urge.  _ Norman couldn't tell if it was instinct, a possible heat, the wish to forget all about this night, but he wanted Andrew with him.

Stepping back a few paces, but not turning his back on Andrew, he turned the knob to the door. Norman glanced up at the Alpha from the corner of his eyes. “Do you… Do you know what a nest is?” Norman asked, his voice still quiet.

Andrew blushed, and Norman’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “You uh…” He paused, and looked up at Norman, his hand going to the back of his neck. “You sleep in it? And uh… You know…” His blush deepened, and his hands made some strange gestures in front of his body. “Breed in it?”

Somehow, Norman wasn't sure how, a blush ran across his cheeks and he looked away. Though he couldn't deny that Andrew's lack of knowledge was… Cute. Probably not the right word, and like hell would he say that to his face, but… cute.

Clearing his throat again, Norman shrugged. “Uh, yeah? But it's more than that.” His hand drifting away from the knob, Norman turned to look up at him properly. “Nests are important shit. Makes Omegas feel safe. It's common courtesy to not go in one without being invited. It’s kinda our escape?”

“So…I don’t go into that room,” Andrew pointed at the closed door, “Unless, and until you invite me?”

“Bingo,” Norman said, nodding. Now that led to the more embarrassing part, something that twisted up his insides at just the thought. Looking back to the door, then back to Andrew, he let out a weary sigh.

“Can it be my turn to do the truth thing?”

Andrew nodded, and let out a small chuckle. “Maybe that should be our thing.” He looked up at Norman and smiled. “Can’t go wrong with the truth.”

Our thing. The thought caused a warm stirring in his chest, something he wasn't inclined to chase away just yet. “Uh, this is gonna be embarrassing, but…” Grabbing a hold of his courage, he decided that he just needed to… blurt it out.

“I got instincts, too, and they're telling me to get your scent over fucking everything I own and it scares the shit outta me.”

His features relaxing slightly, Andrew let out a long breath, and crossed the room to stand a bit closer to Norman. “So, we’re both scared shitless.” Smirking, he dug his hands into the pockets of his borrowed pants. “Seems like we’re even, then. That’s a good place to start.”

Norman blinked. He hadn't thought of that. All this time, he thought that it was a weakness, and an Alpha’s instinct was a danger… Then again, they were called  _ instincts _ for a reason. There  _ had  _ to be a reason to this.

Managing a small smile, Norman nodded. “Guess it does.” Turning his attention back to the door, he reached out and grasped the handle, and firmly turned it. “This is your invite,” he said as he pushed the door open.

Even just standing outside of it, the sight and the smells nearly reduced Norman to a puddle. The scent of vanilla and lavender, the blankets that were spread all across the floor, the pillows creating that wall that held the mattress… Then there were the random assortment of items from his pack. From his son. From  _ home. _

And somehow, it made sense to put Andrew right into the middle of it. 

When Norman opened the door, he expected Andrew to smile, accept the invitation, and walk inside. What happened was… Not that.

Andrew walked forward a few steps, and froze only a foot or so away from the open door. He took a shuddering breath, and Norman watched his hands curl into fists once more. His eyes slid closed, his chin dropped to his chest, and he just stood there, visibly trembling, for several long moments.

That chill was riding up Norman's spine again, but it didn't urge him back to his nest. It kept urging him  _ forward _ . He was already sick and tired of these feelings. But he did take a step closer, shifting in front of him, but did not touch him. “Andy, talk to me,” he breathed. “What's wrong?”

Lifting his head, Andrew slowly opened his eyes to look at Norman. His eyes were bright red again, and he took in another shuddering breath before he spoke. “Your nest smells…good,” he finished, a slight flush riding his cheekbones. Glancing down, the flush deepened. “Really good.”

Oh. That's all. Looking back into the nest, Norman squinted in confusion. It smelled like the air fresheners and was nicely mixed with his pack. Sure he could make out his own scent, but to him, the others muddled it out. “Okay?” he murmured, his voice rising in pitch, unsure to if that word really was true at this moment.

Taking a step back and towards the nest, Norman prodded the door to open fully. Hoping to prod Andrew inside, he walked inside first and began to circle the nest. He leaned over and tugged open the mini fridge he had in the corner, taking out a bottle of water.

“Uh, thirsty?” he offered, a lopsided smile on his face. 

“I’m just going to uh… Stand here for a moment longer,” Andrew said, his voice strained. His shoulders were hunched forward, and his hands had started plucking nervously at the hem of his shirt, like he was trying to make it longer.

Now absolutely confused, Norman looked down at the bottle of water. It wasn't the brand, right? Not like one brand of water was better than the other. Shrugging, Norman unscrewed the cap and took a long draw, then sealed it again. He owed Andrew a bit more of an explanation… It was obvious he was nervous about invading the space.

Clearing his throat a few times, he glanced back to Andrew, the smile fading just slightly. “I… I wanted you in here 'cause I don't wanna be alone and smell… like them.” A shiver ran up his spine, and he stared down at the water bottle.

Andrew huffed, and squinted his eyes in Norman’s direction. “We’re being completely honest with each other. That’s our “thing”, right?”

Norman didn't bother to look up and instead nodded.

“I’m standing here right now, because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Between everything that happened tonight, and now the  _ scents _ drifting out of that room…” Andrew winced slightly. “I’m  _ really _ fucking hard right now, okay?”

Norman's hands, which had been starting to fiddle with the bottle, froze. His head jolted up, eyes wide, but he somehow managed to keep his jaw from hanging. All the while, he was trying to tell himself desperately;

_ Don't look don't look don't look don't look _

But… Norman was weak. And he looked. And his hands tightened on the bottle so hard that he damn near made it burst. Flinging his eyes back to Andrew's face, he felt his own burning with a thick blush and… Damn, he knew his own eyes were going gold. 

Stupid instincts.

“U-uh…” Norman swallowed. He cast his glance anywhere that he could, settling for a corner of the room that used to have a spider. It was gone now. Focus on the spider. The probably dead spider. ...nope, he was still thinking of Andrew's hard dick.

“I  _ really  _ hate this truth thing now, cause you don't wanna know.”

“No,” Andrew said, and even though Norman wasn’t looking at him anymore, he  _ knew _ , that Andrew’s eyes were on him. “I think I do want to know. Pretty desperately, actually.”

Twisting his hands around the bottle again, Norman grit his teeth together. Damn it. Why did he pick comfy pants. At least they weren't tight but… Finally, he forced himself to move. He turned back to the mini fridge and tossed the bottle haphazardly inside, knocking around whatever was still in it.

“Can you just… Come in here?” He groaned softly, still not turning back to Andrew. “I want-... I want you to be a goddamn Alpha and take what you won!”

The only warning Norman got before Andrew was across the room was a nearly silent snarl. He crashed into Norman, and crowded him back against the wall, burying his face into Norman’s neck, and taking in great, heaving breaths of Norman’s scent. Andrew lifted his face the smallest fraction, his lips still so close to Norman’s skin that he could feel them moving as Andrew spoke. “I was trying to be at least a bit civilized, but if you insist…”

The scent of Alpha practically coated Norman the moment that Andrew pressed his back to the wall, and at first, he felt fear. Fearing that he had just unleashed the wolf to the flock of sheep. But he didn't expect the fear to be overthrown so quickly, if just by Andrew's words.

His hands moved by their own accord, reaching and grasping by the back of Andrew's shoulders. His breath had been pushed to a pant, only sucking in more and more of Andrew. All he needed to do was provoke him. “You beat the fucking  _ shit _ outta those fuckers. Civil’s already dead,” Norman rasped, his head tilting back and instead gave Andrew full view to the layers of scars on the right side of his neck and collarbone.

Andrew hissed, and jerked back, putting some distance between them, but not letting go of Norman completely. His nose wrinkled as he looked down, at what Norman wasn’t sure. His fingers gentled their hold where they were clamped down on Norman’s hips, and he let out a muted growl. His eyes flashed, the red retreating the slightest bit, and he said, “I would have killed them all if you hadn’t stopped me. And then I would’ve destroyed the bar, just to be thorough.”

“Shit,” Norman rasped, finally able to meet Andrew's eyes. While the Alpha’s eyes were dimming, his gold was flooding in. An Alpha protecting what was theirs. It made Norman  _ want  _ to be his. Wanted Andrew to destroy other Alphas, claim Norman for himself,  _ only  _ himself.

The thought of Andrew covered in the blood of his enemies, ready to take what he had rightfully won…

“ _ Shit _ , that's hot,” he groaned softly, only tightening his grasp and trying to pull him back.

In the back of his mind, he knew this wasn’t normal. Maybe it was the temptation of heat. That gnawing in his gut, telling him to find a mate, to ready himself to breed… It was already at the forefront of his mind.

Looking like he was being forced to chop off a limb, Andrew detached himself from Norman’s grasping hands. “It’s not fucking  _ hot,  _ Norman, it’s a  _ felony _ !” Andrew walked out of the nest, though the startled Omega immediately followed him out. His shoulders were stiff, and he began to pace back and forth restlessly in the small living room, occasionally glancing to the locked front door.

Still trying to catch his breath, Norman nearly staggered across the room, following Andrew's pacing with hands reached out to touch him. “A-Andy, wait, I need you here. You can't leave me like this!” he said, eyes still bright gold and his breath still fast. “You’re the Alpha! You did what Alphas do! I want you to stay, I want you to mark the fuck outta my house, I want to be your territory!”

“I don’t do that kind of shit!” Andrew yelled, his eyes rapidly reddening again. “That’s not who I am! I’m not a violent person, and tonight I almost  _ killed _ 4 fucking people!” He stopped pacing, and his shoulders slumped. Looking over at Norman, he sighed. “I’m sorry,” and headed for the front door.

“You’re  _ sorry?! _ ”

Norman's voice echoed in the small apartment, and just as Andrew reached out for the first lock, Norman shoved his body into the open space and blocked his hand. “You’re  _ sorry  _ you beat the shit outta them?  _ Sorry  _ you stopped them?” Norman suddenly snarled, baring his teeth back at the Alpha.

Hurt flashed across Andrew’s face, and his shoulders dropped even further. “I could never regret something that kept you safe, so, no, I’m not sorry.” His eyes bored into Norman’s, and he said softly, “If that’s what you believe, then I feel sorry for  _ you.” _

Lifting a hand, Andrew gently pushed Norman aside, and unlocked the final lock. He opened the door, and stepped outside, throwing a small, sad smile over his shoulder. “I’ll see you on set.”

Slackjawed, Norman watched as Andrew walked to the stairs and stepped down, then turned in a random direction. Was he going home? Walking?

Rushing out of the open door, Norman clutched to the railing of the second floor. “Then why won't you just-... Just fucking…!” He cut himself off, then slammed his fist down onto the metal railing. “Am I not fucking good enough for you?! You do all that shit for me and just  _ leave _ ?”

Andrew's steps faltered, and a strange version of hope flooded Norman's system. Maybe the Alpha wanted him. Wanted his prize. But it fell when Andrew just stiffened up his shoulders and continued walking.

“That's fucking it, then?” Norman called, his voice breaking. “Well… Fine! Fuck you, Lincoln!”

His door shook the frame as he slammed it behind him, still shaking as he threw down the locks. Without breaking a stride, Norman turned and stalked back to the open door of the nest, snarling and hissing under his breath the entire way.

Andrew this, Alpha that, fuck being an Omega... 

It was when was a step away from the nest that he stopped short. Andrew left something. He could smell it.

Turning on his heels, he blindly walked to the bathroom, then saw the pale gray towel laying in a heap on the tile floor. Still carrying Andrew's scent. No one else. Just Andrew.

Not letting himself think, Norman picked up the towel, pressed his face into the thick fabric, and breathed. Long, sucking breaths that ended in shudders. Absorbing the scent of the Alpha that had protected him, the one that apparently didn't think Norman was worth the fight.

When Norman found his way back to his nest, he secluded himself into the corner, away from the pillows and blankets he adored, and just breathed. Taking in the scent of Andrew before it could fade away.


	12. Watch Over Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew has a few things on his mind that he can't shake off. One, why did Americans have to ruin tea with ice? Two, why do mosquitoes exist? And three. Why can he not forget about the handsome Omega that made his body burn with desire?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! A lot of people are mad at Mr. Andy. How dare he abandon our boy in his time of need! But let's take a peek into his mind for a few chapters. See what's really going on.

The second that Andrew walked into his house, he started stripping. The scent of Norman was thick on the clothes he was wearing, and he knew if didn’t get them away from himself soon, he was definitely going to do something stupid. Like walk back to the infuriating Omega’s apartment, and fuck him stupid.

Scratching at a mosquito bite on his arm, Andrew scowled. They were everywhere. What the hell kind of place had mosquitoes as big as a small bird? If anyone had asked him that question before, Georgia certainly wouldn’t have been on the list.

Heading for the phone in his office, he glanced at his watch, and frowned. It was 1 o’clock in the morning. Since he didn’t much fancy getting screamed at, the calls were going to have to wait.

Padding into the bathroom, Andrew looked longingly at his tub. If he wanted to get  _ any _ meaningful sleep, he was going to have to pass on a long soak. Resigned, he stepped into his shower, and, as much as it pained him to do it, began washing the scent of Norman off his body.

\---

After several hours of tossing and turning, Andrew sighed to himself, and gave up on sleep.

Getting out of bed, he scratched at his reddened mosquito bites, walked out of the bedroom, and headed directly for his office.

Andrew looked at the digital clock that sat on his desk. It was only a little after 6am, but he figured this was important enough to risk waking Jon up. Sitting down in his desk chair, he took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

It rang several times before an out of breath Jon answered.

_ “Who died that you’re calling me this early in the morning?” _

Andrew chuckled. “No one’s dead, but the possibility was there, if I’m honest with myself.”

_ “Uh huh. You’re gonna have to expand on that, man. I need more information.” _

Andrew shook his head, even though Jon couldn’t see him. “I’ll explain everything on Monday. I called to get a phone number from you. Jeffrey. Norman’s friend?”

_ “Is that what we’re calling it now? Friendship?” _

Unable to stop the growl that rumbled in his chest, Andrew’s hand fisted, and his fingernails dug painfully into the already torn flesh on his palm. “Can I just get the number, please?”

Jon was silent for a moment, before he said,  _ “Yeah, Andy, hang on just a second, I’ll look it up.” _

Five minutes later, Andrew sat there, staring at the paper he’d written Jeffrey’s phone number on. He drummed his fingers on the desk, trying to decide how he was going to approach this. Finally deciding to take his cues from the other man, he took one last deep breath, picked up his phone, and dialed.

After three rings, a female voice picked up, and said, “ _ Hello?” _

Andrew was definitely not expecting a woman to answer the phone, so he was thrown for a moment, prompting the woman to repeat herself.

_ “Hello? Is anyone there?” _

Shaking off his confusion, Andrew replied, “Sorry, my name is Andrew, and I work with Jeffrey’s friend Norman. I’m looking to speak with Jeffrey. I’ve got something important to talk to him about.”

Sounding slightly frantic, she said,  _ “About Norman? Is he alright? He’s not hurt is he?” _

“No, no! He’s fine! I just wanted to… ask Jeffrey a question about… something that he and I talked about while he was visiting.”

_ “Oh. Alright. Hold on just a minute, I think he’s changing Gus. I’ll go get him.” _

“Thanks.”

He heard the phone being set down, and then voices murmuring in the background. His fingers resumed their drumming as he waited. 

After several tense - at least on his end - moments, there was a clatter on the other end of the line, and a deep voice spoke.

_ “The fuck are you calling me for, asshole? What happened to Norman?” _

Andrew winced. “Yes, it’s good to hear from you, too.”

_ “Knock it off with the proper English bullshit, will you? It’s like six in the fucking morning, ain’t no one got time for that shit.” _

Getting right to the point, Andrew said, “Norman told you that a lot of the cast and crew go have a beer on Fridays didn’t he?”

_ “Yeah. And?” _

“We went again last night. I sat in the corner and nursed three fingers of scotch all night, but Norman sat at the bar.”

Andrew closed his eyes, and pictured Norman sitting there. His jacket had been thrown over the back of the chair, and his shoulders and arms were bared to the entire bar since he hadn’t bothered changing out of Daryl’s clothes. He’d thrown his head back in laughter several times, and his grin was wide as he and Steven had talked.

“Everyone had gone home for the night, and it was only Norman and I from the set, along with a table of four locals.” Andrew swallowed, his mouth gone completely dry. When he spoke again his voice was rough. “One of the local guys approached him. I don't know what was said, but it made Norman obviously uncomfortable.”

There was muffled cursing from the other end of the phone line, and Andrew had no trouble imagining a pissed off, red-eyed Jeffrey pacing around his home.  _ “Did they fucking  _ touch _ him?”  _ he managed to snarl in between curses.

“One of them grabbed him, so I intervened.” Andrew sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair, then pulling them out with a wince, looking at the slices that decorated his palm. “It didn't end well. They wouldn't take the hint, and Norman looked so fucking scared… I almost-”

Andrew cut himself off with an almost sob, and pressed his knuckles into his mouth, ignoring his split lip, and biting down until he tasted blood. The burning in his eyes took over, and he could  _ feel  _ the fangs sinking into his knuckles.

Jeffrey was silent for a moment before he asked,  _ “You almost what?” _

“One guy had Norman on the floor, and they were saying such vile, cruel things. I managed to grab onto one of them between being punched and I swear, if Norman hadn't stopped me, I'd have torn his throat out with my teeth.” His last words were almost a whisper, but he was sure that Jeffrey heard them.

_ “Norman is okay?’ _

Yeah,” Andrew said, his voice shaky. “Yeah, he's bruised up pretty good, but that's about it.”

Andrew heard a low rumble coming from Jeffrey.  _ “Maybe you're not useless after all, Andy. I need to go now, or I'm going to do some damage to my house, and my wife will kick my ass if that happens. Take care of our boy for me. Or I'll send my girl after you. And she's much scarier than I am.” _

The soft click was the only signal that the call was over. Andrew hung up the phone and let his head droop down between his knees and congratulated himself on not puking out his nerves. A slight roiling in his stomach made him flinch.

Well, he almost made it…

\---

A plastic dish filled with a cheesy omelette and some french toast was almost slammed down in front of a quietly dining Andrew, and a familiar voice, much too loud for the crowded tent, said, “Okay, Cuttlefish, it's Monday.  _ Now _ can you tell me why you needed a phone number at six in the fucking morning? On a Saturday?”

Glancing around the tent, and all the people in it before settling his eyes on Jon, Andrew glared at him. “Do you even  _ have _ an indoor voice, Bernthal? Or are you permanently set on obnoxious?”

A lopsided grin met Andrews glare, until Jon got a good look at his face. Immediately his dark eyes bulged, mouth dropping. “Holy  _ shit _ , dude, what happened?!” he said, nearly causing everyone in the tent to crane their necks to look back at him.

Andrew frowned, and poked at the remnants of his own omelette. He already knew that Jon was talking about both the split lip and the black eye. “I should have brought in my leftovers. Maybe if your mouth was full of food, it wouldn’t run constantly,” he muttered, doing whatever he could to change the topic of conversation to anything but what had happened.

“Let's test that,” Jon snickered, looking down at his food, and let the topic slide. After cutting out a massive chunk, he shoved it straight into his mouth. “I ca sti’ tawk,” he mumbled through a mouthful of cheese and egg, obviously delighted to be bothering Andrew. Finally swallowing down the large portion, he pointed his fork at Andrew.

“So. Saturday. Jeffrey. You. Face. Tell.”

“Not here, man. Too many people around.” He pointed at Jon’s omelette, already nearly consumed. “When you finish that we’ll go talk in my trailer.”

“What, you got something against my trailer? Not enough tea?” Jon snickered again, even though Andrew knew that  _ Jon  _ knew it was because he had way too much fake blood on everything, and he had yet to clean any of it up. Turning back to his plate, Jon shoveled in another bite. Chances were that Andrew would have much less time to prepare his thoughts than he’d first expected.

“I don’t want to go to your trailer, because whenever my hand touches a surface in there, it gets  _ stuck. _ It’s disgusting.”

“Fine, fine, Mr. Pristine,” Jon mumbled before taking another huge mouthful of omelette, which he thankfully ate silently. Every now and then someone would pass by to say hello, but someone was missing.

Norman. He wasn't on set. At least not that Andrew had seen.

It left a hard stone in his belly. Was Norman alright? Had the Omega done something he would regret?

Watching Jon, who had the table manners of a starving dog, Andrew thought about what he was going to tell him. What parts did he need to know? What parts could he leave out? Should he grab Steven, and tell him as well? What about Melissa? Andrew scrubbed a hand over his thickening stubble, and groaned. Reliving that whole night was _ not _ going to be pleasant.

Once Jon's plate was scraped clean, he started shifting out from the bench seating. “Did you want anything to take with? Muffin? Banana? Shot of bourbon? An icepack?” he asked, only half joking. 

“Make me some tea? There has to be a kettle somewhere in this state, besides my kitchen,” Andrew stalled, looking around at anyone but Jon.

“Hey, I'm not gonna fall for that. I know you got one in your trailer. Was the first thing you put in it,” Jon said, rolling his eyes just slightly. Taking Andrew's plate, he walked over and stacked it atop the growing pile of dirty dishes. “C’mon, Andy. Can't stall me forever.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you Americans have such a fascination for  _ cold _ tea. It’s unnatural. I’ll meet you in my trailer. Five minutes.” Resigning himself to the upcoming conversation, Andrew headed out of the craft services tent. He’d seen Steven duck out moments before, and the other man had been headed for the trailers, as well.

Spotting Melissa sitting in one of the chairs outside the makeup trailer, he walked over to her. “Hey. You got a minute?

Silvery blue eyes flicked up to Andrew moments before he started talking, the meek woman slightly uncertain. Her eyes immediately went to the marks on his face, yet she stayed quiet. Andrew still wasn’t quite certain what to make of Melissa. Since she was on suppressants, they successfully muddled her scent and made it nearly impossible for Andrew to get a sense on her mood.

“Uh… Yes?” she said, her voice rising in pitch questionably. Glancing around herself, she slipped off of the chair and ran her fingers against her near bald head. It looked like she was still getting used to the decision to have her hair cut.

“Is something the matter?” Melissa asked, keeping a few feet of distance between herself and the Alpha, as they’d been taught was proper. Not that Andrew really cared about any of that.

“There was an… uh… Incident. I’ll go through the whole story when we’re all in my trailer.” Andrew tugged sharply on his hair. “I’d rather not have to go through it more than once.”

Melissa tilted her head just slightly, worry showing on her face, but she nodded all the same. Taking a step closer,  she waited for Andrew to lead the way.

“Have you seen Steven? I could’ve sworn he was headed this way…”

“Oh, I think he's back by the trailers too. Since it's shady and cooler.” Melissa turned her head towards the trailer, squinting her eyes. “He's over there somewhere.”

Nodding, Andrew started walking back to his trailer, keeping an eye out for Steven along the way. Rounding the last corner, he finally saw him, leaning up against the siding, and talking to Jon. 

Walking up the steps, Andrew held open the door, and bowed slightly, affecting his best snooty British accent as he did. “After you, sirs and madam.”

Melissa snorted, bursting into small giggles that she tried to cover up. Jon rolled his eyes, and Steven was just confused. His shocked look was already starting to annoy Andrew, as he’d received nothing but stares all morning. After a moment, and a slightly pointed stare, Steven realized that he was also being invited into the trailer, and all three stepped inside. The air conditioned trailer was a welcome change, as it was already quite humid and hot outside. 

“So, this has gotta be something big if it's not just me,” Jon murmured, his eyes travelling to Melissa, Steven, then back to Andrew. A frown was set on his face. “Does this have anything to do with Norman?”

Andrew nodded, and leaned back against the counter. Waiting for the three of them to get settled, he tapped his fingers nervously on his forearm. 

When all three sets of eyes were focused on him, Andrew took a deep breath, and began.

“When we went to the bar on Friday night, Norman and I were the last ones there from set. I think you and Steven were the last ones to leave.” Andrew chuckled lightly, looking at Jon, and then staring at the scuffed tips of the cowboy boots he was wearing. “I had been in the corner all night, brooding into a glass of scotch. Jon, you remember.”

Jon scoffed, “Yeah, I remember you being a dickbag.”

“Fair point. I suppose I was being a bit of a dickbag.”

Straightening up, Andrew started pacing the length of the trailer. “After Steven left, there was a table with four locals, and they started to…  _ Take an interest _ in Norman.”

All three people in front of him paled, and Jon let loose a string of colorful curses.

Holding up a hand to get him to stop, Andrew went on. “Lets just say that their advances were unwanted. Norman made it very clear, and when they didn’t take the hint, I helped them… Understand.”

Melissa made a pained sound under her breath, almost a whine, and Andrew stopped his pacing to lay a calming hand on her shoulder.

“We’re alright, obviously. Punches were thrown, and Norman and I are both pretty bruised up, but we’re fine,” Andrew said, squeezing Melissa’s shoulder lightly before letting his hand drop to his side, and resuming his pacing.

“They were going to -” Andrew’s voice broke off, and he clenched his fists tightly. When he looked back at the other three, he knew his eyes were bright red. “They were going to  _ rape _ him,” he forced out. “Right in the middle of that bar, and say that he  _ wanted _ it.”

Ignoring the angry muttering from the group in front of him, Andrew continued, “I wanted to let you all know what happened, because those four inbred assholes are still out there somewhere, and this is a small town. They’ll be pretty pissed off that one Alpha, and an Omega got the best of them.”

Throwing himself down in the recliner he’d had brought in special, Andrew looked at all three people in turn. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep an eye on Norman. Especially when we’re not on set. Who knows if, or more likely,  _ when,  _ those dicks will show up again.”

Silence was thick the trailer as the three passed glances to each other. Jon’s shoulders were tense, his hands fisting on his lap and there was a ring of red in his eyes. He was bropably biting back several retorts, if only for Melissa’s sake. The Omega had almost shrunk into her chair, her face filled with concern. Steven, though, was thinking. He was the calmest of all of them.

“So you're… you're sure you're both alright?” Steven asked, looking back up at Andrew. “Like, physically and mentally. Like…” his words trailed off, and he was trying to pick his words carefully. “Like, that's not just something you shrug off.”

“Norman was more upset out of the two of us. Understandably.” Andrew’s lips quirked up at the corners. “He puked all over his own shoes. And mine.”

Melissa’s nose crinkled at that, and she sighed softly. “He's probably still wearing them…” she murmured, traces of disgust on her face that she managed to stuff away. She looked at Jon warily. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Other than tearing out their fucking throats?” Jon growled softly, his eyes still rimmed red.

“I nearly did that,” Andrew whispered, his voice only a thin thread of sound. Almost inaudible, even in the small space. “If Norman hadn’t stopped me, I’d be in jail for murder right now.” He glanced up at Jon, who looked like he was about to suggest Andrew was exaggerating. “Not kidding, Jon. I was angrier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

Shaking off the volatile feelings that had surfaced due to their conversation, Andrew focused on Melissa. “I don’t think you need to do anything other than treat him normally. He’d probably be upset if he knew I’d told you, so best keep it quiet for now.”

Jon scowled slightly, looking away and rubbing at his eyes. He looked like he could physically feel Melissa's discomfort at sitting next to an enraged Alpha. “Shit…” he hissed softly, then let out a long sigh. “Are we gonna be expecting Jeffrey on set, then? He's like Norman's stress ball.”

Andrew shook his head. “I don’t think so. I talked to him right after I got his number from you,” he said, looking at Jon. “I think he’s going to stay up in New York for now. Only come down if it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Fuckin’ asshole. If that was my Omega, I wouldn't-...” Jon gritted his teeth together, shaking his head. Even though Andrew could see how uncomfortable Melissa was beside him, she rested a comforting hand on Jon’s shoulder. A growl slipped from him, but he seemed to exhale a lot of his anger with it.

“I think I saw him earlier,” Steven said, eager to break off the awkward exchange about Norman's Alpha. “Norman, I mean. I think he was going to either makeup or the nurse.” Shifting his soft eyes to Andrew, he couldn't help but ask, a grin growing on his face, “You beat the shit outta them, right?”

Lifting up his right hand, Andrew held out his bruised and swollen knuckles for Steven to see. “First fight I’ve been in since I was a kid, but I think I held my own.”

“That's awesome! I gotta go down and see if they mopped up the blood-”

“Hey, hold up.” Jon lifted his head back up, eyes narrowed. “So, we can keep an eye on him on set pretty easy. Like, we practically live here. But how are we supposed to watch out for him when he isn't on set? I don't know where he lives. I'd have to go to the bigwigs and that would be a pain in the ass, if they even felt like telling me. No way he's telling me either.”

“I’ve no idea,” Andrew huffed, a scowl on his face. “He’s not likely to want to stay with me any time soon, as much as I’d like him to, and I really doubt he’d ask anyone else if he could crash at their place.”

Jon's eyes narrowed. “But you just  _ saved  _ him, man. Would think he'd be at least a  _ bit  _ grateful.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back.

Andrew closed his eyes, and thought about Norman’s lust-darkened gold eyes, and the feel of Norman’s hands as they’d closed around his shoulders. Opening his eyes once more, Andrew was fully aware that the red in his eyes had probably deepened.  “Him being grateful wasn’t the problem.” Glancing between Melissa and Steven, Andrew hesitated before speaking again. “I’d feel more comfortable not talking about that bit with anyone just yet. Maybe just uh… Maybe just Jon. Sorry.”

The other two looked at each other, confused, but Jon's focus remained on Andrew. He bit his bottom lip in thought, then finally relented with a nod. “Be careful, man. He's still got his Alpha up in New York.”

Jon looked back at the rest of the group, who were looking at him strangely. “I'm just saying. Jeffrey's gonna beat the shit out of  _ all  _ of us if something goes wrong. And I am not crossing his lady.” Grumbling, he leaned back into the seat, and crossed his arms. “She fucking scares me.”

“You were scared of her?” Steven laughed, looking back at Jon. “She had a baby in her arms!”

“Hey, to an Alpha, that shit is a red alert, get the fuck out, hide and wait for nuclear fallout to finish up,” he countered seriously, though he cracked a smile seconds later.

“I’ve been informed that if anything happens to Norman, his  _ lady _ is going to be set loose on me. Or us. I’m not too clear on the details,” Andy said, running his fingers through his hair, and wincing slightly at the stretch on his sore knuckles.

Throwing his hands up into the air, Jon stood up and started to stalk out of the trailer. “I'm out. I didn't do shit. All I did was give him fucking chocolate!” Jon shouted, and it echoed through the small space. “Good luck! Try not to get the shit beat out of you until after the show!”

“Hey!” Andrew shouted at Jon’s retreating back. “Do I need to remind you about who saved your ass during that first week of filming? Who stopped your drunken ass from starting a fight with something like ten angry rednecks?”

“I could have taken them!” Jon laughed, tapping the doorway on his way out. “You doubt the power of Shane? I didn't take a shot to the chest!” Jon’s clomped down the steps, pushing the door closed behind him.

Melissa just chuckled, relaxing a little now that Jon had gone. She must have been uncomfortable around Andrew and Jon both, the way they were both feeling, but she hardly let on. Smiling back to Andrew, she shot him a wink. “I hope you boys have fun. Just be careful. Bit too early to have a pack running around.”

Steven only chuckled, then stood up from his seat. “Well, I'm gonna go see how Norm’s doing,” he chirped, stretching out his limbs before trotting to the door. Melissa stood up moments after, asking if Steven would mind having company. While the thought of two people following Norman at the same time was not a great idea, it was better than no one.

Relief trickled down Andrew's spine at the conversation being over. Congratulating himself for another task completed, he watched Melissa and Steven leave his trailer to try and find Norman. It left just him, and while he wished for nothing more than to stay in the air conditioned trailer all day, he had to get to makeup.


	13. Knot Having a Good Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Andrew have a little biology lesson. It's such a shame that Norman isn't cooperating very well.

Just as Andrew stepped out of his trailer a voice spoke up from Andrew’s left, beside the open door.

“Andy, what happened?” Jon murmured, his voice soft, so it didn’t attract any attention from the various people that were milling around.

Sighing, Andrew walked back inside the trailer, Jon following behind him. Looked like makeup was going to have to wait. He sank back down on the small couch, and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “This is all so fucked up, Jon. I’ve got no experience, and I couldn’t even begin to explain  _ why _ he makes me react the way I do. It’s frustrating.”

Jon was now the one standing in front of Andrew, brow furrowed and his arms crossed over his body. He stared out the window of the trailer, then down at his watch. “Okay, we got time for a Biology lesson,” he murmured to himself before looking back at Andrew.

“I'm gonna assume this is about instincts, am I right?”

Andrew threw his hands up in the air. “I’ve no idea! That’s the problem!” He sat up, gesticulating wildly in front of his body for several moments, his mouth working, but no sound coming out. Shutting his mouth with an audible click, he sank back into the couch. “I’m going crazy. That has to be what’s happening.”

Any other time, Jon probably would have laughed and cracked a joke, but his lips were in a tense, straight line. “I don't think you're going crazy,’ he said. “I think you're so high off of hormones, you can't fucking see straight, is all.”

Finally plopping himself onto the couch beside Andrew, Jon let out a long sigh. “Give me the short version, and we can go from there.”

Andrew snorted. “There’s no such thing as a short version,” he said, beginning to explain what had happened. When he got to the apartment bits he paused, and his lips couldn’t help but quirk up in a small smile. “His place smelled so good, I thought I was going to pass out. And then he got out of the shower, and all the other scents were washed away, and it was just him…” His eyes fluttered closed. “It was almost too much. You know what I mean?”

Jon smirked just slightly, leaning back more comfortably into the couch. “I know what you're talking about,” he chuckled. “You almost jizzed your damn pants, didn't you?”

“It was embarrassingly difficult to stop myself, yes,” Andrew drawled, aiming a weak glare in Jon’s direction.

Now chuckling, Jon reached over and patted Andrew on the shoulder. “Sounds good so far. So what happened? Got some Omega tail, fucked him into heat and now he's at home pining for you to get back?”

“Hardly.” Staring at the small dust motes underneath the edge of the counter, Andrew sighed. “He goaded me into reacting. Told me I wasn’t  _ Alpha _ enough to take what I’d  _ won. _ Like he was a bloody prize in a arcade. Things got a bit heated, and he offered me his neck, but…” 

The frown had quickly taken over Jon's face, and he retracted his hand. His brow furrowed more and more as Andrew continued. “But…” He prodded softly, making a hand gesture for Andrew to continue.

“It was the wrong side,” Andrew said softly. “I could see all the other bites he’d had. All the times he’d been claimed, and I nearly went into a blind rage that I didn’t get there first.” He leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the floor. “I wanted him to be all mine. I pushed him away, and I left soon after.”

A soft hiss slipped from Jon's lips, and he shook his head sympathetically. He leaned forward as well, matching Andrew’s position but looking at his friend instead. “Y’know, if he's full of bites on that side, chances are he isn't mated. The bite on the left is the one that counts. The one on the... Whatcha call it… The hormonal… gland… mating thing. ” he said, patting Andrew on the back again. “I get what you mean, though. Not wanting to share?”

Andrew laughed. “It’s a bit of a stronger feeling than that. I have absolutely no right to feel it, but I do. And it’s getting harder and harder to shove the urge to lock us in a room together somewhere, not coming out until he’s got  _ my _ bite on his neck. And not on the right side, either.” Looking into his friends concerned brown eyes, Andrew said, “I want everything from him, Jon. How is that even possible?”

Jon paused, humming under his breath. He shifted closer and lowered his voice again. “It sounded like he was open to you at least claiming him. That's a start. If he's never mated, could mean that he's still waiting for the right one. The guys got a kid, after all. And he's probably had decades of heats to get through…”

“If I react to him this strongly when he’s  _ not _ in heat, I’ll just keel over and die when he is.” He looked at Jon with narrowed eyes. “None of this goes any further than this trailer, right?”

Jon laughed, leaning back into the couch. “Of course it doesn't. I don't kiss and tell,” he teased. Letting out a long sigh, he closed his eyes.

“I’ve been uh…” Andrew’s fingers twitched where they hung between his knees. “It won’t go away,” he said, raising his eyebrows, and  _ willing _ Jon to understand.

“Mhm,” Jon calmly hummed, his eyes still closed. “I know. Just about killed Melissa with your damn hormones.”

“Jon! I’m fucking serious!” Andrew gestured at his lap, and scowled at Jon. “I’ve not been this worked up since I was a teenager! It can’t be normal…”

“It is.” A grin suddenly spread across Jon's face, and he opened his eyes to look over at Andrew. “And you better  _ pray  _ you put Norm in heat so you can get rid of the damn thing.”

“If I don’t rip holes in all my jeans before then,” Andrew grumbled. “Or get fired because of all the editing they’ll have to do in post.”

“Dude, it's easy. There's a special sleeve you can get.” Sitting up straight, he grinned even wider. “Ask wardrobe. It's a sleeve for your cock that goes around your thigh. Kinda like a holster. But for your other python.”

Andrew groaned, and buried his head in his hands. “I’m aware of the existence of cock socks, thanks. I’ve tried,” he said, from behind his hands. “I’ve broken 3.”

“...Ouch. That's impressive.” Jon whistled softly and laid back into the couch again. “Just keep one on for filming. They got a shit ton and they'd rather buy more than pay for editing. But you'll get over it.”

Before Andrew could let out another complaint, Jon continued. “We have these instincts for a reason. And sometimes, when there's an Alpha and an Omega, the instincts go fucking  _ nuts. _ Alpha will be hard until he sinks it into some nice Omega ass, and Omega’s gonna be near begging for it. It  _ kinda  _ goes away when you mate. Then it seals the bond.”

“What if you walked out on the Omega you want to bond with, and he probably hates your face?”

“Uhh, that's oddly specific. But…” Jon closed his eyes and thought. “Chances are it's going to drive the Omega crazy. Just try to kiss and make up before his heat or he might try to just rip your dick off. True story.”

“True- What?!” Andrew’s mouth dropped open. “You know someone who got their dick ripped off? I didn’t even know that was physically possible!”

Jon was already back to grinning by the time Andrew finished his sentence. “Oh, it is. There's different kinds of heat. There's the ‘fucking breed me’, ‘Just fuck me’, and ‘You did this to me I will kill you.’ Guy got the short end of the stick because he got the Omega angry in the middle of a heat and…” 

Jon made a popping sound with his mouth, mimicking an explosion from his crotch. “Bye, bye Alpha. Guy nearly died of blood loss.”

Andrew curled his hands protectively around his groin. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “I’m sort of afraid to go near Norman now. I think he’s right on the edge of a heat. His scent was… Deeper somehow.” He looked at Jon, questioningly. “Does that make sense?”

“Dude. I lived with two Omegas. It's even worse than having Beta sisters with periods. I've had to lock up my sis’s window because Alphas from her class kept trying to come in. The smell reached  _ that  _ far.” Jon winced just slightly. “And he's been alone since Saturday night. He's  _ really  _ gonna be aching.”

His eyes widened slightly, and then Andrew cursed. “He’s going to rip my fucking dick off, Jon! I walked out on him when he was basically begging me to fuck him! What the  _ fuck _ am I going to do?”

Another hiss of sympathy, and Jon was shaking his head. “If I was you? Try to fuck him before his heat. It'll relax him. Chances are he's got until the end of the week at best before it hits him. Hell, if he hasn't dropped off by Wednesday, I'll be damn impressed.”

Andrew stood up and started pacing the length of the trailer, one hand still cupped over his groin. “I’ll just avoid him,” he said, only a little bit hysterically. “Avoiding him will work, right? Out of sight, out of mind?”

Jon just raised an eyebrow and stared at Andrew's hand hovering over his groin. “Hope you enjoy jerking off for the next month, cause that's all you're gonna be doing. Like, did you wanna get a head start? I'll leave.”

Staring at Jon like a cat at a particularly hated mouse, Andrew raised his middle finger. “I need helpful advice, Jon. Helpful.” 

Resuming his furious pacing, and muttering to himself, Andrew almost missed the knock on the trailer door. Flattening himself against the wall, he hissed at Jon. “If it’s Norman, I’m not here!”

“He's gonna smell you!” Jon groaned, but got up all the same. Sluggishly walking to the door, he pushed it open, only for soft chatter to come from the doorway. After speaking for a few moments, Jon walked over to where Andrew was cowering behind the couch. “Hey, McKnotsalot, you got five minutes to get to makeup. You're gonna have a scene in less than an hour.”

“Shit,” Andrew muttered. “Norm’s in the scene.” His eyes were wide, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “This is a set, there has to be a cup around here somewhere. Jon! I need protection! You have to get me a cup!”

\---

“...Andrew?”

A gruff voice spoke from directly behind Andrew, almost making him jump. Looking back over his shoulder, Andrew couldn't help but blink as he stared at Norman. The Omega had his shoulders raised, and his face twisted into a scowl. He was also almost constantly looking over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed at whoever was within ten feet of distance within his space.

Off in the distance was Steven, who’d been tagging along after Norman, but now he’d diverged awkwardly, making it all the more obvious that he had been following.

“What the fuck’s going on, Andy? I got, like, six shadows following me.”

“Uhh.” Andrew looked back behind Norman and down onto the ground. “I only see one.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Norman groaned, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his skull. Pointing back to where Steven had wandered off, he growled, “I got someone fucking following me all damn day! I don't got the patience for this!” His lips peeled back, exposing his teeth and showing more aggression than Andrew had expected. 

“Are you sure they’re following you?” Andrew took a few steps back, the information from Jon still fresh in his head. Make sure his delicates were not within Norman’s reach. “They could just be walking down to set, the same as you, Norman. Right?” Andrew smiled tentatively at the ruffled looking Omega, and took a small, hopefully unnoticed, sniff of the air surrounding them.

He nearly fell back on his heels, and thank god Norman was looking the other way, because Andrew knew his eyes had flooded with red, and were probably dilated, as well. Quickly turning around and speed-walking away, he waved at Norman over his shoulder, throwing back what he hoped was something comforting. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Norman, now I have to go film this scene right this second, I hear them calling for me,  _ yes, I'm coming _ ! See, I have to go, bye!”

“You asshat!” Norman snarled at him, throwing his hands up into the air. “There ain't no one calling for your sorry ass! I got ears too, dipshit!”

Andrew searched his mind for anything to cover up his, let’s face it, he was fleeing, he needed to cover up his fleeing. “I- Uh. Fuck! Sorry, Norman,” he yelled, saying the first thing that came to his lips, “We must have a bad connection, I can’t hear you!”  Flinching, and mentally punching himself in the face - because who says shit like that? They weren’t even on a  _ phone _ ! - he rounded the corner, and left Norman’s sight.

“Fuck you, Lincoln!”

Practically sprinting, Andrew made his way to the far end of the lot. Bending over and resting his hands on his knees, he panted harshly, and took in deep lungfuls of air that weren’t heavily laden with the scent of an Omega rapidly approaching a heat. “I’m going to bloody die if this shit keeps happening,” he wheezed to himself. 

He looked down at his dick, which seemed to be in a constant state of, if not full blown hardness, at least three quarters of the way there, and did his best to glare it into submission. “The studio is going to have to pay for  _ so much _ digital editing, will you just  _ knock it off!” _

“Uh… Andy? Are you talking to your dick?”

Whipping his head around so quickly he likely gave himself whiplash, Andrew refocused his glare onto Steven. Straightening, he ratcheted up the intensity, and hoped that maybe lasers would shoot out of his eyes or something equally as impressive. “And if I am? Do you have a  _ problem _ with that?”

Steven, startled by the sudden glare, widened his eyes, and took a few steps back. His face visibly paled, probably due to the overwhelming amount hormones that Andrew was giving off. “U-uh…” Clearing his throat, Steven looked down at the ground.

Slightly out of breath, like he’d been running, it took a few moments for Steven to level out his breathing, then he shook himself. “N-Norm ran off. I tried to stop him but he almost ran me over, the asshole.”

Andrew threw back his head and laughed. It wasn’t jovial, I get the joke, someone got hit in the balls sort of laughter either. He was fully aware that he’d skipped regular laughter and plunged straight into outright maniacal, hysterical, if I don’t laugh I’m going to cry sort of laughter. In between his heaving gulps of air, he caught the scent of alarm that was starting to roll off of Steven in waves.

Calming himself down, an outright  _ valiant _ act considering the way he was actually feeling, Andrew nodded his head. Because  _ of course _ Norman took off. Why wouldn’t he? “If he’s not back in an hour or so, we’ll go look for him.” Not bothering to look over at Steven, Andrew sighed. “And no, by the way. I’m not cracking up, or whatever you Americans call it. It’s just been a long day.”

“O...kay?” Steven took a few more steps back, looking around as if searching for witnesses. Even if he said he would take on Andrew if anything happened to Norman, he certainly didn't want to have a fight about nothing. Or have Andrew be absolutely out of his mind when he did so.

“I'll just… Uhm… Kirkman wants you in makeup in ten. I gotta go tell him about Norman. We're gonna need his stunt double until he comes back.”

Muttering under his breath, Andrew started walking back to the set. “I don’t even know what scene we’re doing… Shit. Uh… Steven?”

“We're gonna be doing the walk through the walkers. Covered in guts. So, uh… don't worry about… Digital costs.” Coughing awkwardly to cover up the flush on his cheeks, he took a few steps back. “We're heading to Atlanta. So… shit. Hopefully he’s gonna meet us there.” 

“Just what I need. Close quarters with a man I can’t decide whether to punch in the nose, or fuck until we’re both so dehydrated we can’t walk.” Andrew groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If he even shows up.”

“Yeah. So, I'm gonna go now,” Steven said slowly, walking backwards away from Andrew. “Uh… You got ten minutes if you gotta take care of things,” he added, his voice level and nonchalant, even though Andrew could tell he was anything but.

Andrew snorted, looking over at Steven with an expression that was just shy of desperation. “You think I haven’t tried that? I’ve masturbated more times in the last 24 hours than I have in the last 24  _ weeks. _ ”

His face now exploding in red, Steven turned away, making absolutely sure his back was facing Andrew. “I don't need to know that stuff! J-just do what you gotta do!” he yelped, starting to jog away from Andrew if only to escape the discussion.

“If I jerk off more, my dick is going to get chafed! It’s already redder than normal!” Andrew yelled at Steven’s rapidly retreating back, enjoying the other man’s discomfort entirely too much. “Nothing even comes out anymore! Do you have any idea how rare that is for an Alpha? Steven? I got a cramp in my hand! I had to go leftie! It was like letting a stranger jerk me off!”

“Way too much, Andrew!! Tell Jon, not me!” Steven had almost gone into a sprint at this point, almost like there was a pack of walkers gnawing at his ankles.

Laughing so hard he was wheezing just as badly as he had been after his run, Andrew stumbled after Steven. At least that was one bright spot in his shit storm of a day: Making Steven blush so hard, he’d nearly turned purple. First chance he got, he was going to tell Norman. If the Omega was still speaking to him, anyway.


	14. Last Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heat won't go away, and Norman is on his last legs. He has one last chance to get what he needs and avoid a heat.

Today, Norman decided that the world hated him. Because it was another day of Alpha-fucking-city, and there was no escape. He had already tried hiding in wardrobe, in the makeup trailer. Hell, he’d even hidden in the damn woods for the longest time.

But  _ nothing  _ could soothe his deep ache for a good Alpha knotting.

Watching these damn Alphas all damn day… Norman scowled to himself as he paced around the edge of the set, far enough away from the cast and crew that he could take in a breath that wasn't saturated by pheromones. It took half a can of body spray to cover up his own Omega scent. He knew it was too much, judging by how everyone's noses would wrinkle around him, but he wasn't here to get the ‘Best Smell’ award.

No, he just needed to get a knot before he found himself completely overcome by his heat.

Gold-rimmed eyes stared down at the scene before him, as Shane beat that bastard Ed into the ground, protecting the fragile Omega from his abusive touch. Just like Andrew. But no, Andrew was avoiding him. Or he was avoiding Andrew. Norman wasn't sure who was doing the avoiding anymore. All he knew was that he wasn't going to try to get fucked by  _ him _ again. His wildly fluctuating hormones bedamned.

If Norman was teased any longer, he could go into heat at any moment. The only way to calm his body was to give it what it wanted: A knotting. An Alpha’s knot was like a drug to an Omega, and it was the expectation of one that had triggered Norman’s oncoming heat. All he had been getting was teased, and, quite frankly, his body was fed up. 

He was getting so desperate, he was almost ready to go hunt downtown for a whore. Anything to try and appease his instincts, and  _ maybe  _ avoid a heat.

By the time he came back to himself, the scene had been wrapped. Good. There was an hour before they would need to leave for Atlanta. That would be  _ just  _ enough time for him to get what he needed. Again,  _ maybe.  _ All he hoped was that Jon would be a willing participant.

Norman pushed his way through the crowd of crew gathering up equipment to prepare for the Atlanta shoot, his eyes fixed on the Alpha that was wiping away the makeup and fake blood. Norman wanted to tell him to keep it on. It showed his strength. His determination to protect what he would claim as his.

This thought certainly wasn't helping Norman, and he felt the gold in his eyes burn brighter. An Alpha that would stop at nothing for what he claimed… Could have been Andrew. But no. Andrew didn't want him. Just wanted to play hero and not take his reward.

Managing to stifle his growl, as that certainly would not put Jon in the mood to help him, he finally approached the lead actor. “Hey, uh, Jon,” Norman began, only to wince. His voice was rough and desperate. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Could you do me a huge favor? Like, huge, huge favor.”

Wiping off some of the blood that had splattered onto his face, Jon looked up at Norman. “Uh. Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

Biting down onto his bottom lip, Norman shifted awkwardly on his feet and tried to ignore the twisting in his stomach. Even the smallest hint of Jon's scent was making his body react. It wasn’t specifically what his body craved, but he thought it might just be close enough.

Rubbing a hand against his throat, Norman swallowed. Just say it. Just say it. “Look, I... “ God damn it, Norman, say it!

“I’m sure Andy told you all the shit that went down between us, ‘cause god knows, he tells you everything, so after all that shit he did, or didn’t do, I really need a fucking Alpha to help me out… If you get my meaning. Please.” Smooth, Norman. Really smooth.

Jon squinted at him, and then let out a strained sounding laugh. “Are you fucking insane?” Taking a step back, Jon waved a hand in front of his face. “Jesus, what did you spray on yourself? You fucking stink.”

This time, Norman's desperation won out, and a growl rumbled in his throat. He closed the distance between them and grabbed Jon by the collar of his shirt. “Ten minutes. It took _ten minutes_ of constant spraying to cover up my fucking scent and _slick._ I am fucking _dying_ , you asshole!”

“Dude,” Jon growled, red beginning to seep into his irises, “You need to let me the fuck go. Now.”

“How about I  _ don't?  _ What are you gonna do about it?” Norman hissed, his eyes flooding with more and more gold. His body was physically trembling, like being this close to an Alpha was actually hurting him. “I just need one fucking knot.  _ One. _ And if you won't give it to me, I'll take my fucking self to Atlanta, and find someone who will.”

“I really don’t think you will,” Jon grinned, the red in his eyes receding, like it had never been there. “There’s only one Alpha on this set who’d be willing to knot you. And it’s not me.”

Jerking down the collar of his t shirt, Jon said, “Lean in and give a good sniff, Norm. Tell me what you smell.”

Narrowing his golden eyes, Norman scowled, exposing his teeth like he was threatening to bite. But he managed to obey, if only because breathing in an Alpha’s scent and might help appease his body. But as soon as he got his nose near Jon's neck, he recoiled with a hiss.

“Motherfucker!” Norman snarled, releasing Jon and turning away, his hands curling into fists. “You got a fucking  _ mate? _ Fuck you! Why does fucking  _ everyone  _ have a fucking mate!”

“Yeah, I know you’re just fucking devastated. ‘Cause you’ve had the hots for me since the first day we met.” Jon quirked an eyebrow at Norman, and crossed his arms over his chest. “I swear, you and Andy are gonna kill everyone on set. Cause of death: Sexual frustration. Just go ask Andy, for fucks sake. Put him out of his misery.”

Turning back around, Norman shot a vicious glare at Jon, almost as powerful as a bite to the jugular. “You don't understand, Jon. I  _ can't  _ go into fucking heat! If I get anywhere close to him, I'll just burst into damn flames! I need to get this shit under control!”

“That ship has sailed, man. Even under all the shit you sprayed on yourself, I can smell it.” Jon shook his head, and looked at Norman with sympathetic eyes. “I don’t think anything would stop it at this point. You should probably ask for a few days off.”

Letting out a long hiss, Norman raked his hands through his hair and pulled at the strands, clenching his eyes shut. Jon was missing the point. He couldn't go into heat.  _ Shouldn't _ go into heat.  _ Why  _ was he going into heat? No, he couldn't chance it again. Just couldn't.

“Jon, please,” he whined, practically curling in on himself. “I can't do this, man. I'm gonna lose my goddamn mind.”

Glancing around, Jon strode forward, and grabbed hold of Norman’s upper arm, leading him away from all the people still working on the campsite set. “C’mon, man, you need to get away from all this shit. I doubt it’ll help, but maybe if you can chill the fuck out somewhere it’ll, I dunno… Help. Or something.”

“Please, please,” Norman whispered softly, cracking his eyes open to look up at Jon. The Omega pressed slightly into his side, almost cowering. It was the complete opposite of the normally bold Norman that the cast and crew were growing to love, the one always cracking jokes and laughing. Because he was actually  _ scared  _ about what all of this meant.

Jon led him to a trailer, and Norman only had to take in a careful breath to know that it was Jon's. For some reason, instead of working him up, Jon’s scent started to calm him. 

Giving in to the hands pressing on his shoulders, Norman sank down onto the couch. Immediately drawing his knees up, he wrapped his hands around them, and buried his head in his arms.

“Look,” Jon started, and Norman didn’t even have the energy to raise his head and look at him. “I guess you’re not gonna take the easy way, and just go talk to Andy, huh?”

“H-he already left me, didn't want me,” Norman mumbled into his knees, his hands grasping at his legs to anchor himself down. He took in deep, slow breaths to try to calm himself, but it barely made a dent in his anxiety. There was no easy way.

If he talked to Andrew, there was almost no chance he would get out of it without giving into him. And he couldn't give into him and give into the heat. But he couldn't just ignore that he existed. Like that was even possible. If Andrew was anywhere near him, or even had been anywhere near him, he knew. Andrew’s scent seemed like it was almost permanently imprinted on the inside of his nose.

“Okay, you need to be clear on something.” Jon crossed the room, and sat in the chair across from Norman. “Andy didn’t leave because he didn’t want you.” Letting out a loud laugh, Jon continued, amusement clear in his voice. “He fucking traumatized Steven yesterday, he’s got it so bad for you.”

That managed to perk Norman's head up, his eyes wide and still a deep gold. There was a few seconds of silence, then came another deep scowl. “Then why the fuck did he leave? He was in my goddamn nest, I fucking begged him to fuck me! Does his dick not fucking work?!”

“Based on personal observation, he has no problems in that department,” Jon chuckled. Sobering quickly at Norman’s glare, Jon sighed. “He left ‘cause he was fucking jealous, okay?”

Scrubbing a hand across his face, Jon leveled a serious look at Norman. “Whatever you have going with Jeff and his mate? Andy isn’t built like that. He’s never gonna be the kind of guy who’s willing to share. So, when he saw your neck, he lost his shit a little bit.”

Jon shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it was fucking stupid that he walked out on you, but I sort of understand. If I saw shit like that on my mate… Yeah, I’d probably lose my shit, too.”

The scowl on Norman's face lessened, if only slightly, as he listened, but his arms tightened around his legs, tucking them closer to his chest. Taking in a long breath, he let it out with a shudder. “But he's not… He's not my mate. Jeff ain't my mate. I don't  _ want  _ a mate. Why is that so damn difficult for anyone to understand?” Norman sighed, shuddering again, but he seemed to be gaining better control over himself. 

“Jeffrey is my best friend. He scratches my back and I scratch his. I've gotten this far not needing a mate, not gonna change my mind because Andrew is being pissy about a claiming bite from  _ years _ ago.”

Quirking an eyebrow at Norman, Jon asked, “You sure about that?”

Holding up a hand when Norman opened his mouth to respond, Jon said, “It was sort of rhetorical, man, relax.” Tilting his head, Jon looked at Norman intently. “Ask yourself this though… Have you ever had anything happen to you like this before? Has anyone ever made you react this way other than Andy?”

Standing up, Jon walked over to the door. “Feel free to hang out in here as long as you want. Maybe ponder whatever it is you have to ponder. If you jerk off, don’t get it on the furniture.”

“I don't need to fucking jerk off, I need something in my ass,” Norman muttered, but he was smirking slightly. He pressed his forehead back into his knees and let out a long sigh. “...Text me when I gotta get going to Atlanta, please?”

“Sure thing, man.” Pausing in the doorway, Jon looked back at Norman and said, “I hope you two can figure this shit out. You’re both pretty awesome people, it’d be a shame if it all goes to hell.”

Norman gave a soft, tired laugh. “Yeah. Me too.” Closing his eyes, Norman let out another sigh. “Me, too…”

\---

A loud bang sounded in the trailer, and Norman jerked his head up, his eyes blinking rapidly. “What the fuck!” he yelled, doing his best to shake off the remnants of his interrupted nap.

Andrew stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, and a low growl rumbling in his throat. “You asked Jon to  _ knot _ you? What in the  _ fuck _ were you thinking, Norm? Jesus  _ fucking  _ christ!”

Narrowing his eyes at the intruding Alpha, Norman sucked in a breath to growl at him to leave, only to get a heavy dose of Alpha scent. His eyes flared a deep gold, and Norman audibly choked on his own breath.

Trying to force his focus onto something else, Norman turned away and hissed, “Get the fuck out! You ain't my Alpha!” For some reason, his chest tightened up with the desire to try and take back the words he’d thrown out without thinking.

Seconds later, Norman was being pulled off the couch and pressed against the nearest wall. Andrew plastered himself against Norman’s back, grabbing hold of his wrists, and lifting them over his head.

Breathing heavily, Andrew lowered his head, and pressed his nose into Norman’s neck, inhaling deeply. “If anyone is going to knot you, it’ll be me,” Andrew growled, opening his mouth and biting down lightly on Norman’s cloth covered shoulder. 

A rush ran up his spine as Norman felt the teeth against him, even with the fabric between Andrew and his neck. His mind went completely blank, and he just about collapsed to his knees. His need was near blinding, and he could feel himself getting slick almost instantly.

Gritting his teeth together, he pressed his forehead against the wall, a moan coming out from between clenched teeth. “A-Andy, wait,” he groaned, even as he flinched at his own words. He needed to tell him. Needed to tell Andrew  _ why  _ he needed this now.

“I’ve  _ been _ waiting.” Andrew rutted his hips into Norman’s ass, and groaned loudly. Releasing Norman’s wrists, he ran his hands down Norman’s body, and gripped his hips tightly. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.” His voice was strained, and trembling slightly. “Don’t want to wait. Every second that I’m not inside you, I die just a little bit more.”

Letting out another low groan, Norman couldn't help but push his hips back against Andrew, silently begging for more contact. Pressing his hands up against the wall, Norman dug his nails into the paint. “Need you to fuck me,” he panted, his breath already coming fast again. “Knot me, please, I can't take it!”

Andrew laughed lowly, and licked across the nape of Norman’s neck, and Norman could _ just barely _ feel the sharp canines dragging along his flesh. “Oh, I think you can take it, Norm. I think you can take it  _ all.” _

Norman's left hand curled into a fist, and slammed against the wall. “Fuck me!” he snarled, his other hand raking down the paint again. “Just fuck me! Shove your goddamn knot in me! I need it to stop! Please, it hurts, I can't…” Swallowing hard, a little sob broke free from him, and his words turned soft. “I-I can't go into heat, I can't. I can't do that shit again.”

Andrew growled, and released Norman’s hips, slamming his fists down on either side of Norman’s head. “You’re driving me crazy, I swear. Does it even matter to you that it’s  _ me? _ The only part of me you want is in my fucking pants, right? Do you care that I can’t sleep at night because of you? That I walk around set all day in a daze because of your scent lingering in the air? Does it matter to you at all?”

Norman shrank down against Andrew, pressing his body back against him in desperation. “Please… you're the only one who can make it stop. Then it'll stop for you. Then we'll be okay. We won't hurt anymore.” Ducking his head, he pressed his forehead against the wall with a thunk. “I-If you don't do it now, I'll fucking die.”

Grabbing hold of Norman’s shoulders, Andrew spun him around. Staring into Norman’s eyes, Andrew growled lowly. “You really think this is going to go away? Just a quick fuck and that’s it. Everything back to normal.”

His eyes still bright gold, Norman nodded quickly. “It's gotta. Then I won't go into heat, and you'll be fine. Please,” he whined, reaching out and starting to pull at Andrew’s shirt, trying to find the buttons, and when that didn't work, he instead reached down to the edge of his pants. 

Andrew closed his eyes, and Norman watched the muscles in his jaw twitch. After several long moments, Andrew opened his eyes again, and slowly backed away. “One time isn’t going to be enough for me, Norman,” he said, voice low and rough. “I want more.”

“Then we can do more! I still need it!” Norman cried out, taking a step forward to try to close the distance. “If you want more, we can do that, we can figure it out!” He reached forward again and tried to grab onto Andrew's shoulders to pull him back.

“And if I said I wanted to mate you? What then?” Andrew whispered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

At that, Norman paled, and his hands pulled back. The gold was almost sucked out of his eyes, even when he tried to recover. “Uh, I've never… I…” Swallowing, Norman scraped through his brain to find  _ anything _ that could save this. Something that would end with Andrew’s dick in his ass. Forcing his eyes to narrow, he reached out again and grabbed onto Andrew’s shoulders.

“Why the fuck do we need to mate? You're an Alpha! Fucking act like one, not some pussy ‘mega! Fuck me!”

Andrew snarled and the color in his already red eyes deepened even more. “I’m more than just a convenient dick for you to fuck yourself on,” he growled, shrugging off Norman’s grasping hands, turning around, and stomping over to the door. “When you finally get that through your thick fucking skull, let me know.”

Spinning around, Andrew opened the door. Throwing one last glare Norman’s way, he stepped outside, and slammed the door behind him. 

Norman couldn’t force himself to call out again, not even when Andrew slammed the door behind him. Instead, Norman just watched him go. He didn't know why. Maybe his body had just given up by that point, like it knew how much he had fucked up.

Falling to his knees, it was like the breath had been knocked out of him, and maybe his soul was ripped out, too. Letting out a soft moan, Norman pressed his back to the wall and buried his face in his hands.

He needed to do something.  _ Anything. _ But he instead just sat there in Jon's trailer feeling sorry for himself.

\---

Three cock socks. It took  _ three,  _ all at the same time, to properly tuck himself away. Hopefully, they wouldn’t break within minutes of filming down here, since Andrew doubted the wardrobe people brought any extras all the way down to Atlanta. 

Andrew sat alone in his chair, eyes closed, trying to concentrate on the scene ahead. With Norman. Chances were he would end up doing  _ something _ to the Omega before the day was over, because he couldn't get the sight of those gold eyes out of his head. And he couldn't forget Norman’s words. 

_ “You're an Alpha! Fucking act like one, not a pussy ‘mega!” _

Another rush of anger ran through his body, and Andrew couldn't suppress a growl. That word. He couldn't  _ stand _ that word, and he couldn't handle what Norman thought their relationship should be. Just fucking, nothing else. No relationship, simply sex. 

Andrew didn't work like that. He was a different kind of Alpha than what Norman was obviously use to. Maybe it was stupid and old fashioned, but that was just the way he was and how his Mum had raised him.

He pressed an open palm against his face, rubbing it slowly against the stubble on cheeks.

The roar of a motorcycle engine made multiple heads turn, and Andrew nearly fell out of his chair at the unexpected noise. Jerking his head up, his eyes widened as he saw the sleek motorcycle swerving around multiple trailers and crew members, before screeching to a halt right by the building where they were going to be shooting.

Getting up to his feet, Andrew couldn't help the sense of relief that flooded him, despite his anger. Norman was okay. He was on set. At least that way, Andrew could be sure of his safety. With how he’d been acting before, the chances were high that Norman would seek relief from  _ anyone _ . Pushing his way through the crowd, Andrew managed to catch a better glimpse of the man on the bike.

“Am I late?” the muffled voice inside the helmet said, before he pulled it off. Giving his head a quick shake, stormy blue eyes looked back at the group of people surrounding him. He blinked, tilting his head. “...What?”

Perhaps it was the sudden change of mood for the Omega that had startled people, or the fact that he just driven through the entire set, but Norman seemed to shrug off the odd looks being thrown his way. Swinging his leg over the bike to join the other one, he brushed himself off and stood.

“Where's makeup?”

Andrew continued to push his way through the cast and crew members that were surrounding Norman’s motorcycle. “Where’s makeup? Is that all you have to say?” he growled out, his metaphorical fur bristling.

Setting the helmet down onto the handlebars, Norman just frowned. His broad shoulders shrugged. “I didn't want to deal with you assholes in a van with me on the ride over. Went by myself.”

Andrew sucked in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for another blast of Norman’s heat-tainted scent, but it was smothered. Suppressants, if he had to guess. He hoped. If Norman had done what Jon said he was planning to do… Anger suddenly surged through Andrew in a rush.

Baring his teeth, Andrew stalked over to Norman, and pointed a finger at him. “Everyone was worried about you. You just rode off, and we didn’t even know if you were coming back. Had to get your damn stunt double to ride all the way down here.” Andrew snarled at Norman, his eyes flashing red for moment, before fading back into their normal sky blue. “Next time you decide to go riding off by yourself?  _ Fucking don’t _ .”

Stormy eyes practically rumbled with thunder as they snapped back to Andrew's face, and gold flashed through them. The Omega bared his teeth at him, shoulders stiffening up.

“I had shit to do, asshole. I ain't your  _ pet. _ I'm fucking sorry that I have the  _ audacity _ to want to go somewhere else 'cause I don't wanna deal with your shit.”

“ _ You _ don’t want to deal with  _ my _ shit? Are you fucking serious right now?” Andrew scoffed, stalking closer, and almost pressing his chest to Norman’s. “At least I’m fucking  _ professional. _ I don’t hold up a multi-million dollar television show because I need to go off and be alone to shake the fucking sand out of my knickers!”

Gold flared deeper into Norman's eyes as Andrew approached him, and he almost knocked over his bike to glare straight into Andrew's eyes, defiant. “You don't gotta deal with fucking  _ Alphas _ all day on set! I ain't having it anymore! How about you take your fucking almighty Alpha ass and shove your knot  _ right _ up-”

“Hey, hey, guys!” Steven yelped, coming up from behind Norman and trying to wedge himself between the two of them. “Guys, not the time for this!” The Beta pressed his hands against Norman's chest, trying to push him back inch by inch, even when the Omega would not give much ground.

At such close contact, it gave Andrew the opportunity to take in another breath. He could still smell Norman's oncoming heat underneath the suppressants, but he couldn't smell any unfamiliar Alphas, or the scent of sex. He snorted. Norman had  _ some  _ self control, apparently.

“He’s right. We don’t have time for this. Been held up enough already.” Andrew directed one last glare Norman’s way before turning around and stalking back to the chair he’d been occupying when Norman pulled up. “Well?” he asked, pointing in the direction of the makeup trailer. “You just going to stand there wasting even  _ more  _ of everyone’s time, or are you going to get a fucking move on?”

“You know what? No. Fuck all of this.” Norman shoved Steven off of him almost effortlessly, the gold raging deep within his eyes. His large hands grabbed at the helmet on his bike, squeezing it so hard his knuckles turned white.

“I fucking quit.”

In the silence that followed his words, Norman strapped the helmet to his head and straddled his bike. Steven looked like he was in shock, his eyes darting rapidly between Norman and Andrew.

The motorcycle roared back to life, and Norman had already started backing away to get a clear shot out by the time Steven managed to snap back to himself. “N-Norman, come on, don't do this!” he shouted, reaching out to try and grab hold of either Norman or the bike.

Andrew smirked viciously, even as his heart fell into the pit of his stomach like a rock. “That’s right. You and Daryl have that in common. You both run away when things get hard. When people get too close.” Shaking his head, he looked over to Steven. “Just let him go. He doesn’t have what it takes to do this.”

Revving the engine aggressively, Norman held up his hand, displaying his middle finger. Andrew bit back a growl, instead just holding Norman’s gaze, a deadly smirk on his face, until he turned away and headed back to his seat, effectively dismissing the Omega.

The engine roared again, and Norman jerked away from Steven. Flipping down the visor of the helmet, he flattened himself against his bike and floored it. Leaving familiar black stripes against the concrete, Norman swerved his way through the crew who looked like they were going to attempt to stop him, but he already was hitting 30 mph before getting past the block.

Within moments, he’d turned down an alley and disappeared.

Feeling dozens of sets of eyes focus on him, Andrew squirmed, and felt all of the anger he’d been harboring drain out of him in a long stream. He pinched at the bridge of his nose, and spoke to the concrete beneath his feet. “I, uh… I may have fucked up. Just a little.”


	15. Take Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norman's heat has taken full control of him. There's only one cure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmmmmmmmm you've been waiting for this moment. Enjoy. <3

Nervous feet surrounded the four bags that sat next to the nest that he couldn't bear to break down until it came time to go. Every instinct was telling him that he needed to stay. Needed to lay down. Needed to nest, rest, eat, then  _ mate. _

Needed to be  _ knotted. _

Groaning loudly, Norman tangled his fingers into his hair, yanking on it to the point that he could feel the strands snapping. No, he needed to focus. Need to focus. There were only a few hours before he needed to be at the airport.

But his nest. His nest!

No,  _ focus. _ He could do this.

Shoving his shaking hand into his pocket, he grabbed at the bottle of suppressants. Shit, he was taking so damn many. Almost out already. Just one more. Would get him on the plane. Then they'd take him to the back and let him try to sleep it off until Jeffrey got there to pick him up.

Shit. Needed to make sure Jeffrey knew. He’d had to change flights.

Stumbling out of the room, Norman forced himself to sit down on the couch, making sure he was far enough away from his nest not to be tempted. Sliding his hand into his other pocket, he forced himself to take out his phone. 

He swallowed a pill as he punched in the number, coughing once he pressed the green button. He swallowed again as he pressed the phone to his ear.

Please, Jeffrey…

_ “Well, shit, I was about to call the cops and report your ass missing. This isn’t a kidnapper, right? You didn’t kidnap Norman, and try to hold him for ransom, did you?” _

A dry laugh worked itself out of Norman's chest, his body slowly unfurling into the couch. Needed to hear him. Needed to feel him.

“N-not kidnapped. Not yet. But I had a change of plans. I'm gonna be flying out of here in a few hours,” Norman said, trying to keep the rasp out of his voice. He refused to talk to Jeffrey through Skype, not when he could feel the gold flooding his eyes, and the twitching in his hands…

_ “Uh huh… You know all your little friends have been calling me nonstop the past two days, don’t you? Nothing that happened down there is a secret.” _

His laugh dried up quickly, morphing into a soft groan that seemed to have a mixture of meanings. Shit, he was hard. He needed his Alpha. Needed his thick knot right up his ass.

“This was a bad idea from the start. Not worth it. I’m going home. Not coming back. Don't care what they offer.” Norman tried to keep his voice level, but every now and then he could hear it hitch. No, stay calm. He could do this. A few more hours.

_ “Norman. I love you, you know that. But you? Are a  _ fucking _ idiot.” _

“Fuck off, old man. You weren't there. They fucking triggered my heat. And now I'm fucking stuck here for a few more hours and I can't fucking  _ handle  _ this shit anymore!” Norman burst suddenly, and he winced at the echo of own voice. But it was something he couldn't get over.

He and Jeffrey had tried for a solid year to trigger a single heat years ago, but got nothing. He’d only had one heat in the seven years since he’d had Mingus. And then he comes here, and in  _ less than a month, _ here he was, panting and desperate. All because of Andrew the asshole.

_ “I  _ knew _ it was gonna get triggered. I knew  _ who _ was gonna trigger it. Jon and I had a long conversation about it when I was still down there. You have to know what’s happening here, Norm, c’mon, man. Use your fuckin’ brain!” _

“I don't  _ want  _ this, Jeffrey!” Norman shouted, a bit of a growl in his words. “I don't want him! I wanna come home! Wanna be with you and Hil and Gus, not fucking here! Not with  _ him!”  _ His voice choked on the last word, a shiver running through his body. His stomach flipped at the thought of that man, the one causing all this bullshit to his body.

_ “You want it so bad you can hardly stand it, man! I can’t even see you, and I’m willing to bet your eyes are gold, and have been for what? Hours? You’re shaking, and your stomach is cramping up. You’re sweating even though you’re cold, but you can barely stand to have clothes touch your skin.” _

Jeffrey paused, then let out a slow breath. He was thinking. Norman forced himself to remain silent, hanging onto his Alpha’s words.

_ “I  _ see _ you when you’re up here, dude. When you’re around Hilarie and Gus,”  _ Jeffrey sighed, his voice deepening with emotion, growing soft.  _ “You want a mate and a pup of your own so badly, you’d give damn near anything to have it. I know you try to tell yourself you’re happy sharing what you can get your hands on, but you’re  _ not. _ Why won’t you let yourself grab onto something that can be just  _ yours _ , Norman? You fucking deserve it, man. You really do.” _

“But I don't… I don't wanna leave you. Please.” The fact that he had been brought from a shout to a whine in less than a minute made him wince, or maybe it was just because everything Jeffrey had said was true. But he was still going to fight it. That fear was still inside of him, fearing that the moment he turned the other way… Everything he had would disappear. “You're my brother. My Alpha. You got me through so much shit. We’ve been through so much shit _together_. Please.”

Norman could feel his will beginning to break, and he tried to choke it back. He had to be  _ strong _ . “I don't wanna leave you guys. You're my pack.  _ All  _ of you.”

_ “I will  _ always _ be here if you need me. That’s never gonna change. Mate, pups, sex change…”  _ Pausing, like he was hoping for a laugh, Jeffrey continued on when it was obvious he wasn’t going to get one. His voice took on a softer, more soothing timbre.  _ “It’s okay to want something, Norm, even if it isn't with me. Just like when me and Hil got together. Okay?” _

Norman swallowed, the hand holding the phone beginning to tremble. A soft whimper left him, and he felt like his entire life was riding on this  _ one  _ decision. To go home, back to his pack, and let everything continue like it had been… Or try and reach out for something that could be just his.

_ “Hilarie and I will be here if you need us. Forever. No matter what stupid decisions you make. You’re Gus’ godfather, for christ’s sake! You’ll be a part of his life forever, and I gotta tell you, man, me and Hil and Gus? Package deal. You’re stuck with us.” _

The other side of the call was silent. Then Norman snickered softly. “...Jeff, I like my dick. 'S a nice dick for an Omega,” he murmured, laughing softly even as he felt a tear drip from his eye. He wasn't sure what he had done to deserve his family. Or anything else within the palm of his hand. His pup, his job… or, the job he had  _ before _ he stormed off set.

Maybe he should have answered those calls.

Swallowing slowly, Norman stared to the door. Stay or go. Stay and make something with what waited outside his door, or go back to his comfort, his safety.

“So if I… Don't make it to the plane…”

_ “Sweetheart, I think if you open your door, you’ll be pleasantly surprised. And you won’t need to go to the airport at all.” _

Norman’s breath caught in his throat, only to inhale deeply. There was a scent. But he couldn't… couldn't make it out. “Are you outside again? Doesn't that make this entire thing moot?”

_ “Guess again, Bubba. I’ve got a baby and a mate to take care of. You’ve got a lot of people down there who care about you, too, by the way. If I were you, I’d fight to stay on that show. Not a lot of them around like that anymore.” _

“But that doesn't… How do you know there's someone at my door, then?” Perhaps it was because of his curious nature, but his body realized he was getting too far off track. Especially since his heat was stifling at this point, making the clothes he was wearing uncomfortable as hell, and he reached up and started tugging at the collar of his shirt.

_ “Jesus, Norman, get your shit together, and go open your fucking door! Aren’t you fucking miserable? Aren’t you curious? Shit, man, how far gone are you?” _

“C’mon, Sugar, you ruin every other surprise for me!” Norman whined, his breath rasping in his chest. The last thing he wanted to do was move, but he needed to go to the door. But he also didn't want to open it up to a hoard of Alphas. He swore softly to himself, if he picked up more than one scent…

A soft hiss slipped from Norman, his nails scraping against the fabric of his shirt. He needed to get out of these fucking clothes… Shit. Trying his best not to make any noise that would tip Jeffrey off, he grabbed at the hem if his shirt and pulled it up and over his head.

_ “Not a chance. Hilarie would kill me. Finally taking your shirt off, huh? Lasted longer than I thought you would, good on you.” _

“Oh fuck you,” Norman groaned softly, throwing his shirt to the floor. He could feel the sweat on his chest and the feeling of air brushing against it made him shudder. “Keep talking to me, Sugar,” he hissed under his breath, his other hand running down to the button of his pants.

Jeffrey laughed loudly.  _ “Get your fucking hand out of your pants. Why the fuck are you still talking to me? Seriously! I have to go, Norman. Got to change Gus’ diaper or some shit like that. Go open your damn door.” _

“Why do you gotta do this to me, you asshole!” Norman groaned, pulling the phone away from his face to look at the battery. Shit. It was dying. “Fuck you. If I die because of this heat, it's your fault.”

_ “Fucking shit! Goodbye, Norman! We love you, too!” _

Letting out one last groan, Norman muttered a few more curses then forced himself to end the call. There was just enough battery left for one more call, just in case something went horribly wrong. He needed to get off this god damn couch, but he already had his hand down his pants… touching his overheated body, his rock hard cock.

No, had to listen to Jeffrey. Door. Get to the door.

He was halfway there when the most wonderful scent hit his nose, and his knees nearly buckled.

By the time he managed to grab at the fourth lock, he’d somehow managed to shed his jeans. The room was too hot. His breath was rapid, rushed, panting, and the ache… The ache burned, and his body was too tight. He needed to get filled, knotted, knotted, filled… That fucking scent! He needed it!

He managed to keep the chain on. Didn't want to let just anyone inside. Needed a boundary. Scratching at the door and leaning his shoulder against the wall, he sucked another breath of the scent that was absolutely wrecking him..

The scent cleared up when he opened the door. Alpha. There was an Alpha right outside the door. He sucked the scent into his lungs so deeply that the burned.

“S-shit,” he snarled loudly. Undiluted by Norman’s own scent, his legs nearly buckled again, and he just barely managed to grab hold of the door. He needed it, needed the Alpha…!

Jerking upwards from where he’d been leaning against the door jamb, Andrew cursed, and looked around blearily. “Norman?” he asked, struggling to get to his feet, but just crashing back to the floor with more cursing. “My fucking feet are asleep,” he scowled, curling up his fists and rubbing them across his eyes like a child.

The sudden crashing of the Alpha on the other side of the door only made Norman scurry back. No, the Alpha was mad. Alpha was mad. He wanted Jeffrey. Wanted his Alpha. Norman couldn't help but whine as he stumbled, falling onto his backside.

Finally managing to get to his feet, Andrew crouched down in front of the still cracked door, and peered at Norman through the opening. “Hey,” he said, his voice soft, “Are you alright? Did you hit anything when you fell?”

Andrew's voice speared through Norman’s body, making him shake. He let out a soft moan, shivering as he curled up on the floor. His eyes were screwed shut, and he willed the angry Alpha to go away. But then his voice gentled. It wasn't angry. Not anymore. Did the Alpha want to help?

Needed an Alpha. But needed his Alpha. His.

“A-Andy,” he whined softly, flinching when he only breathed in more of that mouth watering scent. Needed him. Needed his knot. But shouldn't. But needed. But  _ shouldn't. _

“I’m so sorry for what I said, Norman. I didn’t mean any of it, I swear, I was just so angry that you’d gone off on your own. I kept seeing images of the most horrible things in my head, and I wasn’t there to make sure you were okay!” Andrew ran a shaky hand through his hair, and his breath hitched. “I understand if you don’t want me around anymore. I-I’ll make arrangements to go back to London, and I won’t come back to the show next year, but you need to stay on. Please.”

“S-shut up,” Norman hissed softly, dragging his nails across his chest. He needed to feel those hands on him. Grab him, tear him, yank him, fuck him senseless, and all Andrew was doing was talking about some bullshit!

He only realized he had scratched himself too hard when the smell of his own blood hit his nostrils. For just a moment, he managed to look back up. The chain on the door. Alpha. He couldn't get in. He needed to let the Alpha in.

Taking in a deep breath, he squirmed his way to a sitting position. Norman swallowed hard, staring up at the damn chain. “A-Andy, please…” he whispered, “Please, need you Alpha.”

Andrew blinked, and stared at the door. “Whatever you need, I’m here. Just have to tell me, Norman. Tell me what you need, and I’ll move mountains for you.” Pressing a hand against the door, Andrew pushed, only to be stopped by the chain. Groaning, he rested his head on the cool wood of the door. “Let me in, Norman. Please,  _ please,  _ let me in.”

That was all Norman needed. Just needed to unhook that fucking chain. Just yank it off. But he could barely think, barely understand anything that wasn't the fact that his Alpha wasn't touching him. Wasn't holding him, kissing him, fucking him. Filling him, knotting him.

Then do it all fucking over again.

Gritting his teeth together, Norman let out a few soft pants as he worked himself up to his feet, only to stagger. His shoulder collided with the door, and momentarily shut it.

No, no, no, don't leave Alpha outside. Need Alpha inside. Desperation glowed in his gold eyes as he stared at the chain, and he was distinctly aware of the amount of slick starting to flow. He knew Andrew could smell it too. He could always smell it, after all this time, even before the  _ incident _ a few days ago.

Norman scratched at the wood until he managed to hook his fingers around the chain. Fueled completely by his need, a need that made his body burn, he yanked on it once, twice, then a third time.

By his forth try, the chain snapped. In that same heartbeat, Norman grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, revealing his naked, sweaty body. He was panting and trembling where he stood, his gold eyes locked on Andrew.

Inhaling deeply, Andrew growled low in his chest. His eyes, already blood red, darkened to a deep maroon. Walking slowly into the apartment, never taking his eyes off of Norman, Andrew shut the door behind him. His eyes stayed locked with Norman’s, even as his hand fumbled behind him, and Norman thought he was trying to lock at least  _ one _ of the several locks on the door.

A soft click sounded, and Andrew smiled, his sharp canines indenting his lower lip as he did. “Norman,” he rumbled, smile falling off his face, and a pained expression taking over. “I need you to tell me you’re okay with this. If I’m still inside this apartment in thirty seconds, I might not be able to stop.”

Norman heard almost none of the words coming from Andrew. All he knew was that he said his name. That was all he needed. Alpha chose him. Alpha wanted him. He stumbled back a step, if only because of his almost obscene level of shaking.

His chest heaved and he took in another deep breath of Andrew's scent, and if there was even a miniscule amount of anything but gold in Norman’s eyes, he was sure it was gone now. He couldn't look away from Andrew’s eyes. So red. For him. Andrew wanted  _ him. _

“A-Alpha, please,” Norman sobbed, his voice already turning hoarse. If he didn't have anything in his ass in the next minute, he felt like he would die. “I need it. Need it now. Need it now!”

Crossing the distance between them in two long strides, Andrew wrapped his arms around Norman’s waist, and shoved his face in his neck. Opening his mouth, he bit down softly, before licking Norman’s skin with long, thorough strokes. “Taste so good, Norman. Need all of you, been needing it for weeks. Months. Fucking  _ years. _ Needed you always but I never knew how badly until right now.” 

Giving Norman’s neck one last soft bite, Andrew met his Omega’s eyes. “You’re mine, Norman.  _ Mine. _ Never going to let you go.”

Letting his hands roam over Norman’s body, scratching and squeezing, and stroking, Andrew kept talking, Norman only half aware of what he was saying, but knowing Andrew meant every word. “Mine,” Andrew growled, “Going to knot you, mate you,  _ breed _ you. Fill you up with my pups, and sink my teeth into you over and over again. Never going to let anyone else touch you, you’re mine, mine, mine.”

Sinking his fingers into Norman’s ass, he squeezed, and huffed out a breath when Norman let out a high pitched whine. “You going to bend over for me? Let me fuck you, hmm?” Andrew pressed his hips up against Norman’s, and Norman felt the tip of his cock resting against Andrew’s shirt, fluid leaking from the tip and soaking through the fabric to land on his skin. “You want all that, Norman? To be mine? Want me to knot you and breed you full?”

The same arms that had been constantly loading and unloading a crossbow for weeks, tanned by the Georgia sun, were now wrapped tight around Andrew's shoulders, forcing the Alpha closer, their entire bodies pressing together. Every word made Norman shiver, even when he couldn't quite catch all of it.

He got the most important bits. Knot. Breed. Mate. And he wanted it all.

“Alpha, please!” Norman begged, pushing his hips back against the fingers so close to his slick entrance, hot and waiting for Andrew to claim it. “Please, Andy,” he begged again, his voice almost shrill with need.

“I wanna be good, wanna be a good Omega for you,” he cried out, fingers scratching through the fabric of Andrew’s shirt and dragging across his shoulders. Norman couldn't find any other words that weren't just begging, even when the small shred of sanity left in him was pleading to go to the nest, take the medicines he had for a heat, ensuring he wouldn't conceive, but none of that mattered right now.

Andrew growled again. It was louder, and to Norman’s ears it sounded like a declaration. A claim. Sliding his fingers down to just under Norman’s ass, Andrew coaxed Norman’s legs up around his waist. Grunting at the other man’s solid weight, he slowly walked back to the room he knew held the nest.

Biting down on Norman’s shoulder, Andrew pushed him up against the wall outside the room, unable to stop his hips from rutting up against the Omega. “Fuck, I need to get inside you,” he panted, when he managed to pry his jaws loose from Norman’s flesh.

Smiling at the whine Norman let out when Andrew pulled away from him, Andrew placed a finger over his lips. “Hush, Norman,” he whispered, before pulling his finger away and placing a soft kiss on Norman’s hungry mouth. “Go into the nest, please, and I’ll be right there.”

Norman's hands had already fully twisted into Andrew's curly hair, anchoring himself against the Alpha, and he let out another whine when Andrew told him to go to the nest. But he liked the nest. Nest was soft. Nest was good for pups. Good for Omegas. Good for fucking.

Managing to string enough coherent thought together to nod and start unraveling his hands, Norman managed to unhook his legs from around Andrew’s waist. He didn't need to say a word, and his golden eyes stayed with Andrew until he darted into his nest.

He nearly bowled over the makeshift wall in his haste, but he managed to settle himself in without too much hassle. His slick was now properly flowing. The touch of his Alpha and the hormones that the bites released were turning his body into a single live nerve, bursting at every touch.

\---

Dragging his eyes away from Norman with only the greatest difficulty, Andrew walked out into the living room, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Deciding to bypass any of the higher ups, he called Jon. He picked up on the first ring.

_ “Andy! Is Norman okay? Did he let you into his apartment?” _

“Yeah, he let me in. I-”

_ “Thank fucking god! Is he alright? Is he gonna stay on the show? You can’t let him quit, man, I been talking to some people, and they got some interesting shit set up for him next season! Hallucinations and eating a raw fucking squirrel! It’s gonna be awesome!” _

“Jon. Take a breath before you pass out,” Andrew laughed. He loved Jon’s enthusiasm, even if it made having a conversation a bit one sided. “I need you to do me a favor, yeah?”

Jon didn’t hesitate for a second.  _ “You got it, man. Whatcha need?” _

“I need you to call Kirkman. Let him know that Norman and I won’t be on set for… Shit…” Andrew turned and stared at the empty doorway, straining to listen for the Omega. “How long does a heat last?”

_ “Oh, fuck, he’s in heat? I fucking  _ called _ that shit! Yeah, uh…  like a week? Anywhere from four days to ten, I think.” _ Andrew could hear the smile in Jon’s voice.  _ “You lucky bastard. Knot him good, Alpha! Bet the two of you would make some good lookin’ pups.”  _

A soft, wistful look crossed Andrew’s face at the mention of pups. “Yeah, we’ll see what happens. You’ll let Kirkman know?”

_ “Yeah, I got your back, Andy, no problem. Have fun, stay hydrated, and try to eat some of your protein off a plate.” _

Snorting loudly at that last remark, Andrew shook his head. “G’bye, Jon. Thanks.”

Andrew closed his eyes, and took several deep breaths of clearer air before setting his phone down on the kitchen counter. He reached back and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Dropping it on the floor where he stood, Andrew made his way back to the nest.

When Andrew turned the corner, he actually didn't stumble into a porno in the making. Norman currently had his hands nervously flexing into the beanbag pillow, to the point that the thin fabric looked like it was moments away from ripping. There was a bottle sitting at the edge of the nest, a third full with red capsules.

His golden gaze flicked to Andrew the moment he came through the door, but Norman seemed more composed. Even if only  _ just _ barely. Though, judging by the scent of sex and slick, that wouldn't be something to hold onto for long.

“Feeling more clear now? Less like you’re going to die if we don’t... “ Andrew broke off, a blush staining his cheekbones. “Uh. Well. You know what I mean.”

Norman was attempting to keep his breathing under control, but Andrew could see him gritting his teeth grit together. He was on his knees, and he was rubbing his thighs together repeatedly.

“Ain't gonna last,” Norman grunted, his voice rough with need. His fingers knotted into the beanbag, and he focused his gaze onto Andrew.

Andrew nodded. “I figured. But I need to know that you’re okay with this.” Locking eyes with Norman, he knelt just outside the wall of the nest. His sky blue, for the moment, eyes, bored into Norman’s own. “This isn’t just… This is  _ real _ for me, Norman. I want it all. I want to mate you. Not just help you through your heat. I can hold off on it for a few days, so we both know it’s not just your heat that made you want it, but… I need to know you’re okay with that eventuality, or I don’t know if I can… Tell me whether you’re okay with that. Please.”

There had been moments when the Omega opened his mouth, only for Andrew to continue talking. With every word Andrew spoke, Norman looked more and more frustrated. So much so, that he growled lowly. Once Andrew was quiet for a few moments, he spoke.

“Ain't felt this way 'bout anyone. Not even… No one.” And it was true. This… this was different. “I need this. All a’ this. Heat or not, I'll fucking die if I don't.”

The red slowly began seeping back into Andrew’s eyes, and a low rumble started in his chest. He practically launched himself over the low wall of the nest. Wrapping his arms around Norman, he sank his fingers into the Omega’s hair, and slammed his mouth down onto Norman’s. “I would have died,” Andrew whispered, between pressing kisses to every part of Norman’s face. “I’d have died if you’d sent me away, but I still would’ve gone if it was what you wanted.”

“Do me a favor and shut up 'bout that,” Norman grunted, pulling his mouth back just enough to speak properly. Grabbing onto Andrew's chin, he managed to get the Alpha’s attention enough to make him look at the bottle of pills.

“Need those. Every morning. Don't matter what I say. Need to take one no matter fucking what.”

“Every morning,” Andrew nodded, working his fingers down Norman’s back, and over the curve of his ass. “No matter what you say.” His fingers flexed, and moved in deeper, sliding easily in Norman’s slick. Andrew buried his head in Norman’s neck, and nipped, rubbing one finger over rim of Norman’s twitching hole.

“I'm gonna say a ton of shit I don't mean, no matter what, I need to- shit!” Norman broke off in a snarl the moment that he felt the finger, and his nails dragged down Andrew’s back, making the Alpha arch and shudder, before he let out a small growl. 

Andrew pulled back and looked at Norman’s lust-drunk eyes, and grinned. It seemed like whatever coherency Norman had had, it was gone now.

“S-shit, Alpha, right there,” he groaned, tilting his head back and giving Andrew a view of his exposed throat. The tattooed 'x’ marked the spot, a spot that Andrew would beg to sink his teeth into. But he held himself back. Now was not the time. No matter how much he wanted it.

“Taste so good,” Andrew groaned, licking over the small mark. “Want to bite you. Right here,” he said, as he scraped his teeth over the small ‘x’, feeling the small lump just underneath Norman’s skin, just as he pushed his finger inside Norman for the first time. He didn’t break the skin, just dragged his teeth over it, enjoying the way Norman’s eyes rolled back up into his head.

Norman's body clenched up as if he had been expecting something much more than a singular finger. But no matter what it could have been, it still couldn't have been enough. Norman panted, his hips already rocking up against the single finger inside of him.

Licking once over the small x, Andrew turned his attention to the other side of Norman’s neck. There were the several bite scars that he had seen before, layered on top of one another. Andrew couldn't stop the rumbling growl at the sight, but quickly got himself back under control. He had to remember what Jon said. Those bites didn't matter. 

Dragging his nose over the deepest scar, Andrew licked it briefly, before opening his mouth wide, and clamping down, hard. He might not be able to give Norman the more permanent kind of bite right now, but he’d be damned if his didn’t at  _ least _ claim Norman for himself.

Norman dragged his nails down Andrew's back, adding to the scratches that were already there, and the scent of Norman’s blood joined the scent of Andrew’s that was already floating around in the confined space of the nest. Their scents meshing together pushed Norman off of the unsteady ledge he had been clinging to for hours, and he came against Andrew's body with a shout. Norman’s body shook against Andrew, and he buried his face into Andrew’s chest, letting out a steady stream of curses.

Andrew groaned, the sound muffled by the flesh his teeth were buried in, and pulled his finger out of Norman’s ass, only to shove it back in again seconds later, along with a second. His teeth clamped down harder on the old marks. He was determined that by the time this heat was through, the only marks Norman would care about, would be  _ his. _

“More, more, please,” Norman gasped as soon as he felt the fingers push into him again, his walls slick and hot against Andrew’s fingers, hotter than anything he’d felt in his entire life. 

Removing his teeth from Norman’s neck, Andrew threw his head back and snarled. Blood dripped down from the corner of his mouth, and Andrew swept his tongue out and over the small trail. He looked down at Norman, his eyes dilated so widely that the deep maroon ring of color was barely visible, and growled out, “Ripe.  _ Ready.  _ I can taste it in your blood, Norman. I’m gonna fill you up so full you’ll smell like me for  _ months. _ ”

Norman's eyes reflected Andrew's in their dilation, the gold almost swallowed up. The Omega looked like he was either drugged or drunk, not able to feel anything except for the hands on his body or the fingers inside him, or Andrew’s hot breath against his skin. Norman’s breath hitched in his chest, and he turned his almost glowing eyes up to Andrew. 

“Want you to breed me, Alpha,” he whined, eyes darting down to Andrew’s pants, and frantically attacking the buttons. 

Using his free hand, Andrew joined Norman in pulling at the button of his jeans. After a few moments, Andrew made a small distressed sound, and slid his fingers out of the welcoming heat of Norman’s body. Tearing himself away, Andrew stood up, and ripped at his jeans, the button popping off, and immediately getting lost in the masses of blankets that covered the nest.

Seconds later he was free of the fabric, and Andrew let out a groan of relief as he stroked his hand up and down his cock, his eyes locking onto Norman’s. “Gonna fuck you, Norman. So deep, and so hard, you’ll never want anyone else but me to fill you up from now on. I’m gonna be the only one that gets you like this.” He knelt down, and fingered the bloody crescent on Norman’s neck. “Mine.”

“Fucking do it, already!” Norman hissed, staring up at the Alpha that was standing up above him, and starting to lay himself back against the blankets. He scowled up at Andrew, apparently having gained momentary clarity when their bodies had separated.

Kneeling between Norman’s spread legs, Andrew traced a finger up the length of the Omega’s twitching, reddened cock. “So impatient, Norman,” he chuckled. Running his finger down, he spread them out, and lightly squeezed Norman’s balls where they sat, high and tight against his body. “Oh, you’re ready to come  _ again _ , aren’t you?” Andrew said, his hand still lightly caressing Norman’s balls, before he skimmed the fingers of his other hand across and down to run through the slick that was leaking steadily from Norman’s body.

“I want to taste you, Norman,” Andrew said, licking at a slick covered finger. “Don’t you want that?”

“I want you to  _ fucking knot me! _ ” Norman growled, his eyes narrowed as his hands twisted into the blankets. “If you’re not gonna fuck me, get the fuck outta here! I'm gonna fucking die!”

Andrew narrowed his eyes, and bared his teeth. “That’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get.” He leaned in until his breath was ghosting across Norman’s lips. “On your knees, Norman.”

A growl rumbled in his throat, and Norman bared his teeth back at Andrew, but he followed the Alpha’s command. Norman  was less than graceful as he pushed himself up to his knees from his back, and he struggled not to slip on the silky blankets, or on the slick that had already touched them. He braced his arms down against the blankets, then looked back over his shoulder at the Alpha. His legs were spread, with Andrew between them, yet he still looked at Andrew defiantly.

Running a hand down the long expanse of Norman’s back, Andrew smiled when he heard a purr, something that he suspected wasn’t entirely voluntary, rumbling from Norman’s throat. The smile turned into a feral grin, however, when he looked down at Norman’s reddened, not quite stretched out enough, hole. Grabbing onto both cheeks of Norman’s ass, he squeezed, and rubbed his own aching cock between Norman’s spread legs, the sensitive tip smearing precome all over Norman’s balls. 

Andrew leaned over Norman’s back, and growled into the Omega’s ear. “We both know you’re not ready. Not stretched enough. But it you want it now, I’ll give it to you.”

Choking back a moan at the touch of his own hand, Andrew rubbed the tip of his cock over Norman’s hole, knowing that there was something in his precome that would help with the knotting later. He pressed in the smallest bit, the entrance to Norman’s body resisting slightly. Growling again, Andrew clamped one hand down onto Norman’s shoulder, the other on his hip, and thrust hard, smashing past the resistance, and sinking in almost to the hilt in one smooth motion.

Had it not been for Andrew grabbing Norman and holding him still, the Omega may have wrenched himself out of Andrew’s grasp. His entire body stiffened up, clamped down hard against Andrew's intrusion, and he let out a loud howl. His arms buckled beneath his weight, Norman collapsing, face first, into the blankets. Andrew worried for a moment that he might have pushed Norman to hard, but then Norman let out a long, low moan of intense pleasure.

“So good, so good, more!” Norman groaned, struggling to gain a firm grip on the blankets, and push himself back against Andrew.

A full body shiver rolled through Andrew, starting at the nape of his neck, and continuing all the way down to the soles of his feet. His closed his eyes, and threw his head back, his teeth bared in a savage looking snarl. Fingers clenching on Norman’s shoulder, Andrew drew back his hips, only to slam in again. He leaned forward and draped himself over Norman’s back, rolling his hips slowly, and scraping his teeth over Norman’s shoulder blades. 

With every thrust, Norman would push his hips back to meet him, their skin slapping together obscenely. Curses and snarls spilled from the Omega, who was struggling to keep himself from collapsing down into the blankets. “K-knot me, Alpha! Breed me good!” Norman snarled, biting into his bottom lip so hard he made it bleed.

Andrew released his shoulder and ran his fingers up the nape of Norman’s neck and into his hair. Tightening his fingers, he jerked Norman’s head to the side, focusing on the rapidly beating pulse he could see there, and growled. “Gonna give you everything you can handle, and more.”

Norman's was panting heavily, his gold eyes locking onto the deep red of Andrew’s, and he let out another groan from deep in his chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Andy,” he moaned as his body tightened around Andrew. His hands clawed into the blankets, a shudder working through his body.

Lifting himself off of Norman’s back, and releasing his hair, Andrew moved his hands to Norman’s ass cheeks. Placing a hand on either side, he pushed them apart, and watched as his cock disappeared into the slick entrance of Norman’s body. “Jesus, look at that,” he panted, digging his fingers in deeper, opening Norman up as far as he could. “Made for my cock, weren’t you? Just been waiting for me your whole life. Waiting for my cock, and my come, and  _ my  _ pups.”

There was an audible ripping noise as Norman tore through one of the blankets, still letting out long, throaty moans. “Please, need you to fill me up… need it…” he pleaded, his breathing rapid and hitching. “Wanna have your pups, gonna breed so good for you.” His body stiffened up suddenly, and he muffled his groan by latching onto the blankets. A shudder ran through his body as he started to come again.

“That’s right, Norman,” Andrew crooned, raking his fingernails down Norman’s back, and leaving a set of raised pink lines. “Come all over my cock. Such a good boy, my good Omega.”

His thrusts started to lose their rhythm then, as Andrew felt his knot begin to grow. He watched, enraptured, as it caught on the edge of Norman’s hole, and then pushed inside, only for him to pull it out again. Watched as that lovely pink rim stretched wide for him. “Shit,” he moaned, as he pushed inside again, and was unable to pull out. “Gonna give it all to you, knot you, make you mine.”

Leaning forward again, his hips moving in small jerks, Andrew tilted Norman’s head to the side. “Mine,” he whispered, before opening his mouth wide, and clamping his teeth down on the sensitive skin of Norman’s neck. The second the blood hit his mouth, Andrew started to come. His body stiffened, and his jaws clenched down tighter, a small trickle of blood oozing out of the corner of his mouth when he peeled back his lips to let out a muffled howl.

What had started as a snarl as he felt the teeth sink into his neck slowly morphed into a low whine, Norman’s body sinking down into the blankets, collapsing under Andrew's weight. His body shivered, drenched with sweat, and he could feel the come flowing steadily into him, filling him to a near uncomfortable state. But it was too right, too warm, and he couldn't even begin to think of moving away.

As soon as he collapsed down into the blankets, a low rumbling came from deep in Norman’s chest. Purring. Content. In a near euphoric state, all he could focus on was the knot and the come now filling him up.

After removing his teeth from Norman’s neck as gently as he could, Andrew looked down at the mark he’d left behind. A low rumble of satisfaction came from deep in his chest, and he licked lightly at the still bleeding mark. “Looks good on you,” he murmured, sleepily, nuzzling his face into the curve of Norman’s neck. 

A hum came from Norman, his breathing beginning to slow. “Best make sure it stays,” he mumbled, his voice slurring. His eyes fluttered open just enough to reveal the gold ring around his blue irises, the gold just starting to retreat. A soft shiver ran through him, and Norman let out a sound of satisfaction.

“You’re gonna stay in there so long you’re gonna need to start paying rent.”

“Could just move into my place. Quit paying rent altogether.”

Norman looked up at Andrew from the corner of his eyes, obviously confused by the sudden offer, then closed his eyes again. He nuzzled softly into the blankets that surrounded them. “...But I like my nest.”

Andrew shrugged one shoulder, before rolling them to lay on their sides. “Move the nest to mine. I’ve got a room I think you’ll love. I’ll show you.” Licking across the claiming mark once more, Andrew let out another rumble of contentment.

Norman winced as they moved, feeling the pull of the knot no matter how gentle Andrew attempted to be. Andrew soothed his grumbling with the lick, leading Norman to let out another soft purr. “I don't think… I'm gonna be doing much moving around for a while. Put a pin in that thought.”

“Did you think I meant now?” Andrew snorted, rubbing his face across Norman’s choppy hair.

“I don't fuckin’ know. Don't know with you half the time.” Norman let out a soft snicker, his hands snagging a hold of his pillow just across the nest and kneading into it. Content purrs slipped from him as he pressed his forehead against the soft pillow.

“The fucking mouth on you. You’ll make me blush.” Andrew grinned, hiding his face in Norman’s shoulder.

“Then you better get to work with yours.” Leaning his head back, he nuzzled against Andrew's cheek, letting out a few more purrs.

“So, since you're stuck here,” Norman grunted, turning to look back at Andrew, “You gotta learn how heat works.”

Andrew planted a kiss on Norman’s chin. “Teach me, Omega master.”

“The moment that knot goes down, you better fucking be ready to get it back up. Or I'll fucking claw you up. And if you are asleep, I will fuck you up.”

“From what Jon told me, I shouldn’t have any problem keeping up with you. Something about hormones and pheromones, and who knows what else, I really don’t pay attention to him half the time…” His face managed to stay serious for all of five seconds before he broke into a huge grin. “Jon filled me in. And if I’m asleep, wake me up. No clawing. There will be consequences.”

“I will claw the fuck out of you.” His words were still soft and fluffy, rubbing his face against Andrew's cheek again. “And. You're gonna want this down time to eat and drink water. And not die. And shit like that.”

“No clawing,” Andrew repeated, his fingers moving around to flutter over Norman’s rib cage. “I’ll find the spot,” he threatened, fingers wandering lower, and around to Norman’s sides. “No clawing or I’ll make it my life’s mission to reduce you to giggles every time you’re trying to have a serious conversation with me.”

The Omega immediately started squirming, whining and pushing against Andrew's side. “Noooo don't, don't do that to me! You ain't gonna tear out my ass!” he whined loudly, trying to push against Andrew's hands to fight him away without much movement.

“Tell me the magic spot, and I’ll stop,” Andrew chuckled, keeping one hand anchored to Norman’s hip, the other snaking its way under his body, to brush against his side.

“Like hell I will! You're gonna abuse that all goddamn night and I'll have to kick you out of my nest!” Norman whined again, wrapping his arms around himself to try to cover up any sensitive areas that were within Andrew's reach.

“I’ll just keep going until I find it!” Andrew followed up his words by wiggling the fingers that were now working their way underneath his arm. “Just spill it, Nigel, I’ll find out eventually.”

“Don't call me that, prick! You're cold! Nowhere close!” Norman laughed, trying to roll away, only to wince. “Shit. Bad idea. Fuck. Uh. Uhh.” His mind was swirling, trying to figure out if it was worth giving away his secret.

“Norman!” Andrew drawled, drawing out the ‘o’ sound for a ridiculously long time. “I’ll find it even if you don’t give it up, and then I’ll abuse it mercilessly for the next week.” His wiggling fingers worked their way from under his arm, to Norman’s ribcage, digging in and scratching lightly.

“No, no, no, noooo!” Norman's voice turned into a shriek as he jerked in Andrew's arms, squirming against him as Andrew's fingers dug in deeper to squeeze out every laugh from him.

When Norman’s wild motions started to tug a bit too hard on their connection, Andrew gentled his touches until they turned into long sweeps of his hand over Norman’s skin. “It’s so much fun just messing about with you. Almost like we’re children,” Andrew said, sighing happily, and pulling Norman closer. “I could get used to this.”

Once the tickling had ceased, Norman’s purring resumed,  and he tucked himself closer against Andrew's side. “You got no idea how much of a child I am. Gonna confuse me for a pup,” he chuckled, closing his eyes. He shifted his head to rest beside Andrew's, close enough that Andrew could see his breath shifting around strands of Norman’s hair.

“...But like I said. You better be fucking quick on those knots.”

Andrew chuckled, and pressed a kiss to Norman’s temple. “As you wish.”

“Good,” Norman purred, nuzzling against Andrew's cheek once more. He stretched his limbs slowly, trying to work out any stiffness and letting out a soft groan. He curled back into Andrew's side almost immediately, smirking. He opened his eyes to look back at Andrew, mischievousness glinting within. “Farmboy. Fetch me that bottle of water.”

Snorting loudly, Andrew grabbed the bottle that was sitting about six inches away from Norman’s hand, and repeated, in a low whisper, “As you wish.” 


	16. Lingering High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heat has ended, but the high lingers. May as well make the best of it before one of them realizes exactly what he had promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O HAI.
> 
> YEAH
> 
> Yeah we're late. But we will post another chapter tomorrow! :D
> 
> Lynna: Migraines are the devil and I'm sorry :p  
> Jer: I'm just a lazy asshole x3

“Alpha…” 

Warm hands pressed against Andrew's chest, nails lightly scratching against exposed skin. The hands wrapped around the Alpha’s shoulders, giving a shake.

“Alpha…!”

The voice was a sharp whine, desperate. Hands clenched around his shoulders again, and the other man’s breathing sped up, soft puffs of hot air against Andrew's face.

“Mmm, need me again already?” Andrew yawned, before wrapping his arms around a squirming Norman. He huffed out a small breath of air as he felt the tips of Norman's fingernails curl against his skin.

“Please, need one more, then I'll sleep, I promise,” Norman whined again, bright golden eyes focused completely upon Andrew.

Andrew blinked bleary eyes, and tried his best to focus on his needy Omega. Flexing his limbs, he couldn't hold back a wince. After five days of nonstop action, his body was making its protests known. Loudly. 

“I'm afraid you're going to have to do all the work this time. I think if I move too much something is going to snap off.” Andrew released Norman and rolled over onto his back. “Come and sit on my lap, Norman. I've got a present for you,” he leered, dragging a hand down his chest and wrapping around his already hard cock. He winced slightly, wondering if he really could handle knotting Norman again.

Weariness was even more apparent on Norman’s face, and he struggled to even sit up. While it didn't seem like he was in pain, which he would have every right to be at this point, his movements were sparked with whimpers and hisses.

The romantic and playful mood had abruptly ended the third morning, and by the fourth night, both of them were tempted to just take a few sleeping pills and try to wait out the rest of Norman’s heat. Andrew was hoping that this would be the last day, as Norman said his heats rarely lasted for longer than five days, but they had yet to find out.

Grasping onto Andrew's shoulders for balance, the Omega heaved himself up and climbed onto Andrew, straddling his hips. Their bodies were sticky with layers of slick and come, as hard as Andrew tried to keep them clean, there was only so much a washcloth could do, and it only made moving that much more miserable.

Norman dug his knees into the blankets on both sides of Andrew's hips, a hand reaching back and swatting Andrew's away from his cock. “'m sorry, just one more, I promise,” he whined, stroking Andrew's abused cock.

Lifting a hand and laying it along the side of Norman's face, Andrew smiled. “I knew what I was signing up for, and I'm here as long as you need me. No more talk like that. Okay?”

Norman's eyes glistened as he looked down at Andrew, misery clear across his face. His body was fluctuating constantly between extreme highs and lows, and he woke Andrew up many,  _ many _ times in the middle of the night. Always asking for that 'one last knot’. So far, that had turned out to be far from the truth. Norman still nodded, even though they both knew it might not be the truth, and lifted his hips up before slowly sinking down onto Andrew's cock again.

His teeth grit together, and eyes clenched shut, Norman began working his way down Andrew's cock. The Omega’s fingers tightened onto Andrew's shoulders, leaving small scratches. The scent of Andrew’s blood seemed to revive Norman a little, and he let out a soft groan as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against Andrew's neck.

“Bite me, Alpha,” he pleaded softly.

Unable to hold back a hiss of pain as Norman slid himself onto his cock, Andrew dug his fingertips into the Omegas hips, adding another 10 small, circular bruises to the collection he already sported. 

His fingers dug in even deeper at Norman's soft plea. Andrew snarled and nudged Norman's head to the side, exposing the multilayered claiming mark that he desired to replicate on the other side of Norman’s neck. Licking over the sore flesh several times, Andrew rumbled low in his chest. 

“Love seeing my mark here,” he murmured, smoothing his cheek over the feverish flesh before biting down lightly. “Gonna put marks on you  _ everywhere _ .”

Norman almost collapsed against Andrew’s chest, letting out soft whimpers of need. His hands tightened again, forcing his hips to rock up and down faster. “Wanna be yours, want you to own me,” he gasped softly, his back arching as Andrew’s teeth bit into one of the multiple wounds that now covered the right side of his neck.

The Omega tightened around Andrew, his own cock starting to leak across Andrew's stomach. None of these sessions ever lasted longer than a few minutes, not with Norman’s every nerve being frayed and overstimulated to the point that a single touch could produce an orgasm.

“Just like that,” Andrew groaned, as he watched Norman working himself up and down on his cock. He reached out and wrapped a hand around Norman's own painfully hard erection and squeezed, removing his teeth from Normans neck to whisper sweet, filthy words into his Omega's ear.

“Love the way I fill you up, sweetheart. So hot and wet inside, just made for me to fuck.” Andrew nipped at Norman's ear and smiled wickedly. “Think once we're done here, I'm gonna need  _ you _ to fuck  _ me _ with this beautiful cock,” he said, as he trailed a finger up to the leaking tip. His smirk widening at Norman’s low moan, Andrew continued. “Show me what the fuss is all about. Do you want that? Pin me against the wall and work your way inside me? Show me how much of an  _ Alpha _ you can be?”

Barely a moment after the word 'Alpha’ left Andrew's lips, a shudder worked through Norman's body and he let out a gravely moan. His back arched sharply, head tilted back as he came over Andrew’s fist, lacking in volume just a bit, compared to a few days ago. Norman’s nails scratched deep into Andrew's shoulders, causing crimson to bead up to the surface.

“Want it, want it, want it!” Norman gasped out as he orgasmed, his eyes bright gold.

“Fuck!” Andrew gritted out through a tightly clenched jaw, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head at the feeling of Norman's body spasming around his rapidly filling knot. “Gonna knot you good this time,” he growled. “If there wasn't a pup started before, there's gonna be one now.”

Grabbing hold of Norman's shoulders, he pulled the other man down until he was resting, skin to skin, against his chest.  Snapping his hips up once more, Andrew stilled and started to come, emptying what felt like his entire life force into Norman's shaking, sweating, and perfectly marked up body. 

With eyes rolled back so far that the gold could barely be seen, Norman shuddered against Andrew's chest, a low purr working it’s way from his chest, and into Andrew’s.

Norman’s orgasm, no less intense, despite what it lacked in volume, left him panting and sweaty. His fingers too weak to cling to Andrew anymore. Even in the uncomfortable position, Norman made no effort to move. Andrew hoped Norman, like him, couldn't stand the thought of separating right now. Not feeling their bodies pressed together, covered with sweat, come and slick.

Norman buried his face into Andrew's neck, whimpering as he continued to be filled. Running his fingers languidly up and down Norman's sweaty back, Andrew murmured a soothing string of words into his ear. Praise, for being the perfect Omega. For letting Andrew help him through his heat. For just being himself.

Sometime later, Andrew wasn't quite sure how long since the alarm clock that had been in the corner of the nest had been broken sometime during day two, he felt Norman stir.

Smiling up at the obviously exhausted Omega, Andrew ran his thumb underneath Norman's eye. “Think you can sleep for a little while now?” He asked.

Norman nodded, and mumbled an affirmative sounding noise against Andrew’s chest, followed by a heavy sigh of relief. His eyes fluttered open again, the gold once again just a ring around the blue. Momentarily at peace. Norman barely shifted, but somehow managed to tuck his arms around Andrew's neck, once again burying his face into his neck, choosing him instead of a pillow.

Placing a series of soft kisses on the tangled mop of his Omega's hair, and wrapping his arms around his back, Andrew whispered, “Good night, darling. Sleep well.”

Norman's words were mumbled against Andrew's chest, but Andrew thought he got the jist of it. There was the inevitable curse word and a 'farmboy’ in there somewhere. In other words, a normal bid goodnight.

\---

When Andrew woke up the next morning, Norman’s head was buried in the crook of his neck, and the Omega was drooling all over him. Shrugging mentally, because he was already covered in a mixture of saliva, slick, and come, Andrew just closed his eyes, and sighed contently.

This was the first good long stretch of sleep either of them had gotten for the past 5 - or was it 6? - days. Like his stomach was abruptly awakened at the mention of exactly how many days he’d gone without a proper meal, it grumbled angrily at him. Frowning, Andrew took a moment to catalogue what it actually felt to not have any food to eat. He shook his head, and made a mental note make a donation to a local food bank. No sense in having what money he had without doing anything meaningful with it.

He reached out and shook Norman’s shoulder gently. “Norman. Wake up. I’m hungry and I desperately need a soak in some extremely strong soap. I’m going to get up and make one of those things happen immediately if you don’t get up right now, and tell me you need me to fuck you again.”

Norman’s fingers twitched where they laid against Andrew's chest, the Omega having curled up onto Andrew to the point of near suffocation. He only let out a soft grumble in response, pushing his nose deeper into Andrew's neck and taking in a deep breath of his scent.

“...warm,” Norman mumbled, rubbing his cheek against Andrew’s jaw. Andrew huffed, and wondered if Norman was deliberately marking him. Not that he wasn’t fine with that. He was just curious if it was an instinctual thing or, maybe, something deeper.

“Norman,” Andrew whined, shaking at his shoulder again, and wiggling around beneath Norman’s not inconsequential weight. “I’ve just remembered something else that I have to do  _ urgently _ , so I’d really appreciate you letting me go.”

A much louder groan sounded from Norman, and, tilting his head away from Andrew’s neck, he opened his eyes to glare up at him. Surprisingly, the gold in his eyes was barely visible, still just a small ring. “... fuckin’ ass,” he muttered to himself, obviously not pleased with having to move and, though Andrew thought he’d be much less pleased if he happened to have an  _ accident _ in the middle of his nest, began to literally peel himself off of Andrew.

The various fluids they’d been happily rolling around in all night had had plenty of time to dry, and now they were basically glued together. 

But after a few growls and complaints, Norman rolled off of Andrew, immdeiately clawing at the blankets to cover himself up again.

Andrew scrambled out of the nest as quickly as he could, clutching at his groin and whimpering the entire walk to the bathroom. “Oh my god!” he shouted, voice strained. “It hurts to fucking pee, Norman! What the hell did you do to me?”

“You fucking offered! You got any idea how fucked I am if I wanna  _ sit  _ for the next week?” Norman called back. Andrew figured that he had coiled himself up with blankets in a desperate attempt to forget that the rest of the world existed. How were they not both fired from the show after fucking off for however long Norman had been in heat?

Not like the cast and crew would have wanted them there… Not that Andrew would have been able to control his own, quite maniacal, urges to either fuck Norman or kill him. It would have gotten messy. The showrunner should thank them both, he really should.

“Well it’s a good thing you just have to walk around and look moody for the next few days of filming. Maybe fling your crossbow around.” Andrew walked back into the nest, still naked, and held his arms out like he was holding an imaginary crossbow, his eyes narrowed until only the barest hint of color showed through. “Look at  _ meee _ , I’m Daryl Dixon, and I hate sleeves, and I killed every single squirrel in Georgia, and I hate all of you, especially that  _ hot sheriff _ that just rolled into camp!”

Norman's attempted to glare up at Andrew from within his blanket cocoon, but he failed within seconds of Andrew's impression. At first Norman just snickered, but that quickly evolved into almost hysterical laughter. “You fucker!” he snorted, grabbing at a pillow and throwing it directly at the 'crossbow’ in Andrew’s hands. “That's not how you hold the damn thing! Gonna shoot yourself in the foot!”

Andrew grinned, looking down at the Omega within the nest. While most of his body was covered with the blankets, Andrew was still fully aware of the amount of bites and bruises that littered Norman’s flesh, and that image brought out a possessive rumble from his chest. 

His eyes still twinkling merrily, Andrew pounced onto the laughing Omega. His fingers immediately went to Norman’s ribs, digging in and tickling as much as he could through the blankets.. 

“No, fuck you! Off!” Norman shouted, through slightly hysterical laughter. He squirmed and wiggled beneath Andrew, and Norman’s attempts to shove his tickling fingers away were rather pathetic, if he had to be honest. Andrew was just about to go in for the kill, when a loud rumble made him poke his head up from where he’d been working it underneath the edge of the blanket.

Norman's stomach was roaring as loud as his motorcycle.

“I knew it!” Andrew yelled, throwing his arms up in the air, his fists clenched, and a triumphant grin on his face. “You  _ are _ human, despite refusing any and all forms of nourishment I tried to stuff into your face over the last few days.”

“Oh fuck you,” Norman mock scowled, starting to twist himself deeper into the blankets. “I took the damn water! You're lucky I took that much!” It was hard to make Norman take anything, not when his time was spent either asleep or in desperate need of a knot.

“Well, that was then, this is now,” Andrew said. He shoved himself up to his knees, slapping Norman on the ass, quickly getting up, and running out of the room. “What kind of food do you have here? I’m  _ starving! _ ”

“...I dunno, can't remember what I got,” Norman’s voice drifted from the doorway, making Andrew frown. How could someone not know how much food they had?

After rummaging through Norman’s cupboards Andrew scowled. He opened the refrigerator, and frowned at the bottle of ketchup, and the somewhat desiccated pizza. Poking his head back into the nest a few minutes later, Andrew growled softly. “You have no food. It’s horrific.” 

“Yeah, well, I can't cook worth shit,” Norman muttered under his breath, not looking up at the doorway. Instead he remained tightly wrapped in blankets, staring at the bottle of pills he’d been adamant that Andrew give him, rolling it in his hands. “I know I got pizza rolls or something. Gimme a plate of those.”

Andrew made a scandalized face. “A pizza  _ roll _ ? I’m not really sure what that is, and I’m definitely not going to feed them to my possibly  _ pregnant _ … Whatever you are. I need to go get you some real food. Will you be alright here until I get back?” 

The Omega visibly flinched, something painful flashing in his eyes. Norman literally shook it away, his body shivering madly for a few seconds, as if not wanting to upset Andrew. Or himself.. When Andrew frowned, and took in a breath to ask him what was wrong, Norman started speaking instead.

“...Andy, I'm… I'm not going to get pregnant,” he murmured, his voice low and trembling slightly, like he was afraid of Andrew’s reaction. 

Andrew furrowed his brow, and looked at Norman with innocent confusion. “How would you know this quickly? Doesn’t it take at least two or three weeks to know for sure?”

The Omega opened his mouth, only to deflate into the blankets. He rolled the bottle of pills in his hand, before he pushed them out of the nest, rolling them to Andrew. As Andrew kneeled down beside the nest and picked then up, Norman explained in a quiet voice. “They're contraceptives. I've taken them for years. I won't get pregnant.”

Andrew’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes weren’t half as bright as they had been before Norman’s words. “I…” He shook his head, staring down at the bottle, and then looked up at Norman. “I understand, I think. I just… I wish you’d have told me from the beginning. So I didn’t start thinking about-” He broke off, and swallowed thickly, dropping the pills onto the blankets like they’d burned him.

He looked at anything but Norman, his jaw tight, trying to push away all the thoughts that had been swimming through his head for the past several days. “I’ve been having the same dream for the past four days.” He chuckled softly, barely audible, even to himself. “When you let me get any sleep anyway. Dreams about a family.”

“Andy, you have no idea what I wouldn't give  _ not  _ to have to take these damn things,” Norman sighed, starting to pull himself out of his web of blankets.

Looking back up at him, Andrew watched as the Omega sucked in a deep breath, and then cleared his throat. “I've… A few times since I had Mingus, I've tried.” A bit of mist passed over his eyes, and he swallowed hard enough, that Andrew heard a soft click coming from his throat.

“But I don't… I had one heat.  _ One. _ ” His hands pulled at the blankets, and emotion clouded his words. “And even after all the shit I did, pills I took, doctors I saw, I still couldn't-...” Norman choked off, his eyes staring down at the nest. There was a soft tremble in his shoulders, and his hands were clawing into the blankets.

A low rumble building in his chest at the sight of Norman so distressed, Andrew practically dove back into the nest. Curling himself around his... partner, the low rumble continued between his words. “Hey, I understand,” he said, even when he really didn't. Couldn’t. Andrew curled his arms around Norman’s shaking back, bringing the Omega to rest against his chest. “I would probably feel the same way in your position.”

Andrew leaned in and kissed away the trails of tears that were now running down Norman’s face, only for the Omega to flinch and duck his head back into Andrew's chest.

Taking in a deep breath, Andrew scrambled to find any comforting words. “If all we ever have, is each other? I’m okay with that.  _ You _ are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, despite our somewhat… rocky, beginning.” He gathered Norman closer, tightening his arms even more. “ _ You _ are all I’ll ever need.”

“But I  _ want  _ pups! Maybe even yours! If you quit being a dickbag!” Norman growled, probably trying to disguise the choking sobs that were racing up his throat. He refused to look back at Andrew, resisting when Andrew tried to tilt his head up so their eyes would meet.  He screwed his eyes shut, before Andrew could get a good look, but it was long enough for him to see the pain lurking inside Norman’s normally bright eyes. “It's not fucking fair! I've always wanted pups, a whole pack, and I can't even-”

His shivering turned worse, teeth grinding together so hard, Andrew was worried he could chip one. Norman practically radiated pain, and even now he was trying to force it back down.

“I’m not even going to try and understand how you’re feeling,” Andrew said, his voice trembling almost as much as Norman’s had. “I’ll never be able to. But I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you never have to go through anything like that again. And if it does happen...” He trailed off, then his voice got firmer. More sure. “You’ll never have to go through it alone.” 

Norman’s glassy eyes looked up at him, and Andrew lifted a hand to wipe at the tears that hung on Norman’s cheeks. Shifting himself over into Andrew's arms, Norman pressed his damp cheek against Andrew’s chest. He curled up tightly, like he was trying to merge into the Alpha’s body. He still shivered softly, but Norman closed his eyes, taking deep breaths of Andrew’s scent.

“...s-she left me. 'cause I couldn't have anymore pups. I don't want that to happen again.”

Andrew ran his fingers through Norman’s hair. “I will never leave you. If anyone tried to make me, they’d have to kill me first.”

“You don't know that... We met like… three weeks ago. Four. I dunno, lost track,” Norman mumbled, yet made no motion to support that claim by moving away. Instead his body began to relax.

“Do you remember the night I asked if you wanted to go to the bar with us? When I wrote the address on your hand?”

Nodding against Andrew’s chest right away, Norman sighed. “Yeah. You smelled so good.”

Huffing out a laugh, Andrew rubbed a finger over the ridge of Norman’s ear. “You did, too. I won’t mention the giant hard-on you gave me. Oh wait…”

A snort almost exploded out of Norman, and he pressed his hands to his face in an effort to contain it. Still trying to hold back his laughs, he wheezed, “Dude. When I got to the bar, I was gonna challenge you. Some Alpha shit. I got, like, three feet away from you and I fucking  _ gushed  _ slick.”

“Mmm, I’m familiar with you doing that. I smelled it. That night. When you tore out of there like your arse was on fire? I just… I can’t really explain it.” Andrew took a deep breath, and shook his head. “I knew something was special about you.”

“I saw that stupid smirk on your face. Is that what you look like when you get hard as fuck?”

“It might be easier for you to answer that question,” Andrew said, lightly pinching at Norman’s earlobe. “You’ve been looking at me every time I’ve been ‘hard as fuck’ lately.”

The Omega whined softly at the pinch, swatting at Andrew’s hand. “I hope you don't stay that way forever. This ain't gonna work if you  _ somehow  _ trigger my heat every month. It’s because of that fucking cock of yours.”

Andrew laughed. “Your fault for making it hard all the time. Whenever I catch the smallest whisper of your scent, there it goes. Like a brick.”

Norman let out a groan, deflating against Andrew's chest. “They're gonna fire us because we can't work together. They'll have to keep us on other sides of the set. Because they can't afford to keep editing out your cock.” A soft blush colored his cheeks. “...and mine, too.”

“We’ll just have to make sure we’re tired out when we get to set, then.” Andrew laughed again, then sighed dramatically. “We’re going to be eaten by walkers. Too sore to run.”

“Me first, ‘cause my ass is a goner.” Norman let out a heavy sigh and curled his arm around Andrew’s body, pressing their chests together. “I won't be on much longer anyway. They said I won't be comin’ back. They'll keep Rooker.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that. I’ve been hearing some talk. Despite the rather poor showing you and I have made while working together, we apparently have, and I quote, ‘Amazing chemistry.’ So. We’ll see.” Andrew let out another rumble, pressing a kiss to his jawline.

“Why the fuck didn't anyone say this sooner? Could have fucked around before my heat. And I wouldn't have made an ass of myself on set, like, six different times,” Norman grumbled, a hint of a scowl on his face.

Andrew shrugged. “Better late than never, I suppose. Try and think about it that way.”

Norman just let out a string of grumbles, his eyes still closed as he let out a heavy sigh.  He prodded a finger against Andrew's stomach a few moments later. “Hey, 'whatever you are’, where's my food. You're letting your ‘whatever I am’ Omega starve. I'm gonna have no choice but to gorge myself on the rest of my Snickers and whatever the hell else I got left in there.”

Andrew let go of Norman immediately, and jumped to his feet. Putting his hands on his hips, he threw out his chest and said, in a deep bass voice, “Never fear, fair Omega. I shall procure sustenance for you. If I die on this dangerous mission, please, never let anyone else fuck you.” 

Cupping a hand around his mouth Andrew leaned in and whispered, “That last bit is very important, don’t forget it.”

Norman let out a long, overdramatic moan and flopped onto his back. “Seriously? No one? Do dildos count? I ain't giving that shit up,” he complained, opening his eyes to look up at Andrew, obviously trying, and failing miserably, at holding back his twitching smile.

Glaring at Norman, Andrew frowned. “No kiss for the brave soldier? Just a question about dildos?” His slumped his shoulders a bit, and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “I see how much you care. Not even a kiss goodbye. Sob!”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Norman groaned just as loudly as before, and made a production of struggling to sit up. “Your fair Omega’s still wounded from battle, you ass,” he muttered, grabbing onto Andrew's side for a level of support, only to give up seconds later. “Come down here, knight in shining come and slick,” he grinned, his eyes lingering on Andrew's still nude and dirtied body.

Getting to his knees, Andrew lifted a hand and placed it on Norman's face. His thumb rubbing across the almost invisible scar he noticed near Norman's eye, he leaned in and pressed their lips together. 

Pulling back after a long moment, Andrew sighed wistfully. “I have to shower and put on clothes. I don't want to.”

Reaching up, Norman ran his fingers through Andrew's thick, curly hair, stroking it slowly while Andrew did his best not to moan in pleasure. “Could just sit here and eat pizza rolls and snickers. I'll share. No dress code here.”

Shuddering at the thought, Andrew shook his head. “You need real food. Not some chemicals dyed and molded into a vague roll shape.” Quirking a brow at Norman, he asked, “Exactly how roll shaped are they? How big?”

“Norman sighed, leaning forward to press another kiss against Andrew's lips. “They're like… I dunno. Size of an egg? You microwave a plate full and you regret your entire life like two hours later. But it's good when you don't know how to cook.” Norman smiled sheepishly, tilting his head.

“Not good enough. I'll get you something better,” Andrew said, kissing Norman one last time before getting to his feet, resolutely ignoring the small click coming from somewhere in the vicinity of his knees. “Try and get some sleep. I'll probably be an hour, at least.”

Letting out a soft hiss of delight, Norman immediately dropped back down to the blankets, pulling and grabbing at random ones to curl up into. He reached out and grabbed a hold of his bean bag pillow, curling his arms around it and pulling it beneath the blankets with him. “Drive careful. Don't want you dying anytime soon if you're the only one I can fuck ever again,” he snickered, though Andrew knew he was only half joking. He was coming to find out that Norman tended to be a bit of a worrier. It seemed like it was in his nature, even when he tried hard to cover it up. 

Brushing a hand over Norman's forehead, the only part of his body currently visible to him, Andrew chuckled. “As you wish.  _ Buttercup _ .”

“Fucking  _ Farmboy _ .” 


	17. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norman couldn't remember the last time he had a first date. And he wasn't sure if this counted. But... Either way, it wasn't bad.

When Andrew walked back into the apartment an hour and a half later, a dozen grocery bags looped through his fingers, he took in a deep breath before the tension that had been present in his shoulders since he’d left dissipated.

Making his way into Norman's small kitchen, he set about putting away all the food and the multiple cooking implements and dishes he'd bought. In anticipation of Norman being ravenous, he'd picked him up a sub from the grocery store. He got one for himself, too, of course. They were amazingly good, after all.

Finally finished putting everything away, Andrew went to go wake Norman. When he opened the door, however, he just couldn't make himself do it.

Norman was in the exact position Andrew had left him in. Curled up with that ridiculous pillow, drooling all over it by the way, and letting out little purrs in his sleep.

“You're going to kill me, I swear,” he whispered, shaking his head.

Backing slowly out of the room, he shut the door. He'd save the subs for the next day. It was time to break out another recipe he'd learned from Miss Hattie, his neighbor. She had been his instructor in all things Southern, quickly became his mentor, and a rather good friend.

He’d told her about Norman. Blubbered all over her pretty white apron about him, in fact. She’d offered to go get a switch off the sycamore tree in her backyard, and go tan his hide. Andrew’s face had colored at that, and Hattie looked at him with her warm, dark eyes for a moment, before laughter burst from her mouth, ringing through, what she called, ‘her comp’ny parlor’.

He’d since been upgraded to a chair in her much more welcoming kitchen, and when she noticed his eyes eagerly following her hands as she baked, and stewed, and fried, and pickled whatever she could get her hands on, she’d offered to show him, ‘how Southern folks got it done.’

Now he was going to put some of that knowledge to use. Norman deserved a treat. 

\---

Norman would have rather stay asleep forever. Judging by the ache in his ass and muscles he hadn't used in what felt like  _ years, _ he did not doubt that it was possible. What had denied him that right had been the sound of the door creaking open, followed by a British curse.

Scowling, Norman forced open one of his eyes just enough to look at the doorway and at the Alpha that now stood over him. “The fuck d’ya want?” he mumbled,  wincing as he started to shift in his blankets. Now that his muscles had had the chance to get stiff again, they were aching twice as much.

Andrew’s smile dimmed slightly, but Norman refused to let himself feel bad about that. It was Andrew’s own fault for waking him up. And fucking him so well he’d used muscles he’d forgotten he had.

“I just finished making lunch. I let you sleep as long as I could.”

Letting out a low grumble, Norman flung his arm over his eyes to shield himself from the light, or maybe just block out the idea that he now had to move. “‘M not gettin’ up,” he groaned softly, and reached blindly with his other hand for a blanket to cover his head up.

His stomach chose that moment to let out another loud rumble, and Norman cursed softly.

Andrew chuckled and knelt down, running a hand across Norman’s blanket covered shoulder. “Any objections to me bringing the food in here?”

Pausing in his contemplation of death by fucking, Norman lifted his arm away from his eyes to look up at Andrew. Squinting up at him, he tilted his head. “What kinda food is it? Messy? Is it gonna ruin my blankets and my nest?”

Frowning slightly, Andrew shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that messy. If you’re careful. Do you have a little table I can bring in here? Like an end table or something? A TV tray?”

“Uh…” Biting his bottom lip, Norman hummed to himself in thought. “Yeah, yeah, I should have a TV tray. I think it’s over by the couch. Maybe I tucked it underneath, I dunno.” Norman wasn't one to sit down at a table for dinners, at least not alone. When he was with his son, or his pack, he would be more than happy to. But alone…

It was easier to ignore his loneliness eating in front of the TV, watching reruns of South Park.

Nodding, Andrew stood up and walked out of the room. Returning a minute or two later with the tray, he set it up on the edge of the nest. “You’ll have to sit up if you want to reach anything.” He frowned. “Maybe this was a stupid idea.”

Grunting softly, Norman began to wiggle his way through the nest to both make some room for Andrew and to face the tray. “Nah, c’mere. I gotta wash these blankets anyway. As long as it doesn't get on my stuff.” Rolling onto his stomach, he rested his chin on a pillow, looking up at Andrew. “What did you make?”

Andrew grinned and shook his head again. “Not telling. You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Don’t I get a clue? Somethin’?”

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrowed, Andrew said, “Fine. How about… I burned my wrist making it.” He turned up his wrist up and held it under Norman’s nose, displaying a small blister. “Hot oil.”

Immediately, Norman's nose wrinkled and he nudged Andrew’s hand away. “Can't you be more careful? I don't got a fryer or anything.” Adjusting his head on the pillow, he closed his eyes and let out a tired sigh. “I don't want you to burn yourself or hurt yourself. You'll get blood everywhere.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “According to my neighbor, who is dying to meet you, by the way, it’s part of cooking.” He ducked his head a little, and blushed. “She also said it’s because I’m only just learning how to do it. Fry, that is. I can do other things very well. You’d vouch for me, right?”

Opening his eyes again and squinting up at Andrew, as if trying to communicate that all this talk was just delaying the food from getting into his mouth, he let out a long sigh. “Feed me,” he whined, wiggling in his cocoon in what could have been a flail. “Feed meeee!”

“Alright, Twoey, relax. I’m going.”

“I'm  _ starving _ !”

Andrew walked out of the room, chuckling, and Norman felt his mood elevate. Andrew couldn’t be all that bad as a mate if he knew about Seymour and Twoey. As long as he stayed away from the gas. Snorting softly to himself, Norman rolled over just as Andrew walked back into the room, carrying two plates that he set down carefully on the TV tray.

“I’ve only made the chicken a couple of times, so it might not be that good yet.” Andrew was shifting nervously on his feet, and Norman couldn’t help but smile. If he kept being all cute, it was going to be easy being around him more often.

As soon as he looked at the food, he just about begged Andrew to bite him that second.

“You're a fucking god,” Norman groaned as he reached out to the plate, fumbling to grab at the silverware. There was fried chicken, potato salad, even  _ biscuits. _ How did Andrew make this in his kitchen?  _ His  _ own kitchen? Did he even have a pan? Cooking oil? Norman grabbed at a biscuit and shoved it directly into his mouth.

“Did I get them right?” Andrew was still shifting nervously, as Norman chewed.

With a mouth still full of biscuit, Norman’s words were muffled, and after spewing crumbs all over his plate, he realized that he shouldn't actually try to speak through it. Finally he swallowed. “Fucking love it!” Norman groaned, and reached out for another bite.

Andrew’s posture relaxed as soon as the words were out of Norman’s mouth, and he settled himself on his knees next to the TV tray. “You haven’t tried the chicken. That’s what I was nervous about. I already got the stamp of approval from Miss Hattie for my biscuits.”

Huffing softly, he finally swallowed down the rest of the biscuit. “Gimme a sec,” he mumbled, reaching and grabbing onto a chicken leg. Situating himself better into his blankets, he laid onto his side and began gnawing away at the meat. Letting out another groan, he curled deeper into the blankets and continued eating, letting out little growls like a ravenous animal.

“Dude…” Norman mumbled through his bites. “Can we, like, make her a part of our pack or something?” Norman took a few more bites before his eyes widened. Shit. What did he just say. Our?  _ Our _ pack?!

Nearly choking on the chicken, he coughed, rapidly blinking his watering eyes. “S-shit, I mean… Uh… f-fuck, I-"

Thumping Norman on the back, hard enough to jolt him forward, and nearly making him faceplant into his potato salad, Andrew laughed. “So. Thinking about us being a pack? I like it. Think about it more.”

“F-fuck you,” Norman coughed, before finally swallowing down the rest of the chicken, as he did not really want to cough it up and lose a mouthful of the deliciousness. Setting down the half eaten chicken leg, he leveled a glare at Andrew. 

“Let's get something straight first, got it?” He wheezed, much less threatening than he had attempted it to be. “I don't know shit about you. All I know is that your name’s Andrew, you can cook, and you got a nice co-" Norman wheezed again, coughing, trying to cover up another slip.

Damn. There was a reason why he hadn't gotten a mate to have a pup with.

“Fancy that bit of me, did you?” Andrew slid a hand down his chest, and gave himself a little pat, directly on top of his groin. “I’m rather fond of it myself.”

Norman looked at him with as blank a look as he could manage, stuffing down the urge to grin as far as he could, and Andrew cracked a smile before lightly bumping his shoulder against Norman’s. “I’m an open book, Norm. Ask me whatever you like.”

Grumbling beneath his breath about Andrew being a  _ cock _ y bastard, he stifled another laugh, badly. Who  _ didn’t _ like a good dick joke? Returning his attention to the food, he studied the chicken leg in his hand and thought to himself. What to ask, what to ask…

“...Have you ever been with a woman?” There. That was a good starting point.

Andrew froze, and his mouth dropped open, a mouthful of half chewed chicken sitting inside. He made a sort of squeaking sound. One that Norman mentally filed away to use at a later date, it would make for good blackmail. Taking another bite of the chicken, after dipping it into the potato salad, he cocked a brow at Andrew.

Swallowing his mouthful, Andrew looked at Norman, and sighed. “Yes, I have. Haven’t you?”

“Yeah, both ways. My kid's Alpha is a girl. First time time with a girl. How about guys?” Norman added, keeping his eyes on Andrew as he chewed on the chicken.

Shrugging slightly, Andrew looked at his plate. “I’ve been with men, too, yes. Never actually uh…” Andrew started making a series of gestures that Norman thought meant penetration.

“How’re your blowjob skills?” Norman couldn't stop his grin this time, unable to look back at Andrew in an attempt to keep the choking on food at a minimum. “I don't need an example yet, I'm fucking spent for a good week or two.”

Narrowing his eyes at Norman, Andrew poked him with the end of his fork. “I’ve never had any complaints, thanks ever so. You’d be lucky to get a blowjob from me.” Turning his nose up into the air, Andrew resumed eating his potato salad.

“Oh, so now I gotta  _ earn  _ a BJ,” Norman sighed, rolling his eyes so hard he feared for s second that he’d shifted his titanium socket. Letting the subject drop, he set down the now bare chicken leg and started prodding at the potato salad next. He wasn't one for any kind of salad, but he was willing to give it a try.

“Alright, let's take turns with this shit. I feel bad asking about your kinks.”

“I don’t recall you asking about any of my kinks,” Andrew grinned, shifting back into the nest, and leaning on his elbows. “All you asked me was if I’d been with men and women, and if I gave a good blowjob. Which I do. Feel free to ask about my kinks though. I’d love it.”

Back to sporting a fierce blush, Norman would’ve buried his face into his pillow if he hadn’t been for the fact that he was shoveling in food at the time. Letting out one more awkward cough, he composed himself best that he could. “No, shush. It's your turn to ask a question.”

Lifting his eyes to the ceiling, Andrew let out a little hum, his face thoughtful. “What is the stupidest injury you got as a child? I’m talking, broken arm from thinking you can fly, kind of stupid.”

“That's a good one,” Norman chirped, tapping his fork against the plate as he thought. “...I got in a motorcycle accident. That wasn't the bad part. I had a warrant out for me so I stuffed my bike in the bushes and- Oh, you said childhood.” Flushing, Norman reached out for another biscuit.

“I tried to do a stunt. I think I saw it in a movie. I jumped out of a window and tried to slide down an awning. Those fuckers are  _ not  _ as durable as they look like in movies. Broke right through. Got a concussion and broke my wrist.”

“Beats mine,” Andrew laughed, shifting around until he was resting his head on Norman’s thigh. “I had a bmx bicycle. Thought I was the epitome of cool. Tried to jump this little ramp that couldn’t have been more than a half meter off the ground. Ended up on my arse in the middle of the street, with road rash, and a broken bicycle.”

“That's fucking adorable,” Norman snickered, taking another bite out of his chicken before starting to ponder his next question. “You, uh, got any pups? Ever mated before?” He asked, making sure to keep his eyes on his food, to not risk intimidating Andrew for an answer. 

“Never met anyone I’d ever considered having them with.”

Norman swallowed, and pushed his food around the plate. He heard the unspoken part of that sentence loud and clear.  _ Until you. _

Doing his best to limit the sort of awkward pause, Norman set the fork down and shifted back into the nest. He was careful not to detach Andrew from his leg, rolling onto his side. He knew fully well that he was still naked, other than the blankets that were still knotted around his body here and there. He still didn't know why Andrew picked him. Maybe he would never know.

“I, uh, got a son. He's about ten and a half now. He's my world,” he said, unsure if he had ever fully explained Mingus before or not.

“What’s he like?” Andrew asked, looking up at Norman with a smile. And it wasn’t one of those polite smiles either. The ones that most people wore when asking about anyone else’s children. There was clear interest written all over Andrew’s face, and Norman felt the wall surrounding his fragile heart shatter just a little bit.

“He's the coolest little dude ever,” Norman chirped, already feeling a wide smile take over his features. It felt like he never had enough time to talk about his son, his treasure. Even after all the difficulties in raising a son, starting even before he was born, Norman never regretted it for a second.

“He can beat my ass at any video game, he wants to try the guitar, and he's a smart little fucker. He got that last part from his mom. Still trying to decide if he takes after me or his mom in looks. Kinda middle ground right now.”

“If he looks anything like you, you’ll need to have a stick handy when he’s older.”

Norman furrowed his brow. “A stick?”

“Yeah,” Andrew nodded, his curls rasping pleasantly over a small bit of Norman’s exposed skin. “For beating away all his suitors. Boys  _ and _ girls.”

Now back to flushing red, Norman shook his head. “Nah, his mom is a model. Drop dead gorgeous. Kind of a shame I wasn't really into her. We both knew what we wanted, though. Nothing extra. Just negotiating on custody every now and then.”

A familiar ache sat in his chest, and he let out an unconscious sigh. His kid was still all the way in Spain right now. Enjoying time with his mother. Had he not taken the role here, he may have been with them. Sometimes he wondered if he should have stayed with Helena. Give Mingus a real family. Not two separate halves that never neatly fell into place together.

Shaking off his morose thoughts, he looked down at Andrew. “Anyway… What about your family?”

Andrew smiled widely. “My parents are great. Very supportive when I decided this is what I wanted to do with my life. I’ve got an older brother.” His smile turned into a smirk before he continued. “Would you believe me if I told you his name is Richard?”

“You gotta be fucking with me,” Norman snickered, turning back to his food and picking up the last piece of chicken. Technically he should pace himself, but it had been so long since he’d eaten… “Does this mean your brother's a Dick?”

Snorting, Andrew turned his face to the side, burying his nose into the square of bare flesh he and Norman’s squirming around had revealed. “No,” he said, his voice muffled. “We’ve always called him Rich. Well. I called him a wanker more often that Rich, but that’s not supposed to count.”

“Fucking wanker… Brits have funny words,” Norman mused through another mouthful of chicken before finally swallowing it down. He couldn't explain it, but this was strangely… Relaxing. He gave a tentative stretch, only to wince at his bones popping from their cramped position.

“Shit. How long until we gotta be back on set?” Norman asked, only to blink. “Shit, what  _ day  _ is it? What  _ time _ ?”

“The clock on the microwave said it was a little after noon when I came in here. So, maybe one o’clock now?” Andrew guessed. “And, if my mental tally of the days is right, it’s Wednesday.”

“We've been here for a fucking  _ week _ ?” Norman wasn't sure why he was so shocked. Of course it was a week. A little less if he was fair to himself. His heat had officially started on a Thursday when Andrew came over, but wasn't entirely sure if he technically had already  _ been  _ in heat before that.

Damn. How the hell did he survive when he actually had biannual heats?

“We gotta get back on set asap. Shit, do they even want me back? I fucking _ quit _ . Fuck!” Norman rambled, panic already working its way into his system. What if they had already killed him off? Moved on to the CDC? There was no way they would add him back in, after all the shit he'd pulled! No, he fucked up, ruined his chance, after everything they did, practically  _ gifted  _ him this part, he still-

“Everything is taken care of,” Andrew said, interrupting his almost panicked train of thought by running a hand across Norman’s calf. “I made sure to talk to Jon before all this started, and he talked to all the necessary people. Just to make sure of that, I called him while I was out.”

“Oh,” Norman said softly, his mind going blank again. He blinked down at Andrew, then gave a shrug. At least that was out of the way. Turning back to his plate, he frowned. He was almost out of food.

Forgetting of course that it was not his turn to ask a question, he picked at a chicken bone for the remnants of some meat. “So… What do we do now?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to go eat dessert.” Andrew smirked up at Norman, before sitting up, and resting his arms on his knees. “But not in here. Dessert is a dining table only experience.”

Norman’s eyes widened back at Andrew, his body practically melting into the blankets of his nest. “I don't wanna get up!” he complained loudly, flopping down onto his stomach and dragging a blanket to cover his body. “I'm sore. And tired.”

“More dessert for me,” Andrew grinned. Standing up he headed over to the door. “I put it back into the warm oven right before I came in here, so it’s still going to be nice and hot. And I bought something to put on top of it. Aren’t you curious about what it is? Can’t you smell it?” Andrew opened and closed the door rapidly, causing soft whooshes of air to fly around the nest.

At first, Norman had been completely prepared to burrow back into his nest and maybe go back to sleep, but the scent he caught immediately changed his mind.

“Holy  _ fuck,  _ that smells good,” he breathed, eyes dilating. He wasn't sure what it was. But he  _ needed  _ it. With a little grimace, he started to squirm towards the edge of the nest, trying to figure out what was the least painful way of standing up and heading to the dining room.

Andrew laughed softly, and walked out the door. “I’ll be out there.” He gestured at Norman, who was still contemplating the logistics of nest to the table. “Whenever you’re ready.”

After a lot of thought, Norman realized that there was no way of crossing the apartment without some sort of pain. Growling under his breath, he heaved himself up to his hands and knees, and then, after several moans and groans, finally got to his feet.

And  _ fuck. _ His ass was on  _ fire. _ Scowling at the now empty doorway, Norman snagged up a comforter from his nest and wrapped it around himself. There, that should at least help. Though he  _ really  _ should go take a shower or a bath. Norman was still covered in various fluids.

He shuffled his way out of the nest and headed towards the kitchen, keeping his eyes on the ground and away from Andrew. He would probably laugh at him for being pathetic and weak...

He didn’t though. He just looked at Norman for a moment before smiling and walking over to the couch. “I bought this on a whim, thinking you might need it,” he said, picking up a large plastic bag and handing it to Norman.

Curiosity peaked, Norman grasped the bag and dug into it while practically limping to the table. He pulled out the singular item just before he sat down. At first, his brow furrowed with confusion, only to turn it over in his hands and have realization dawn on him. A childish grin spread over his face, and he turned the plush cushion in his hand to show Andrew.

“How did you know I liked cats?” he asked, pointing to the design of a black cat curled up on said cushion.

“I saw the picture you have in the living room. Your son, I think. He had a cat on his lap.” Shrugging, Andrew brought over a steaming dish full of something that smelled heavenly, and set it on the table. “That, and I didn't think you'd really appreciate a cushion that had a picture of Justin Barber on it.”

Norman's brow went back to furrowing, trying to place the name, only to shrug a few seconds later. He was still looking down at the pillow when a thought crossed his mind, and he frowned. “I don't want to sit on it. It's too cute. And I'm gonna get it all… Gross.” Red flooded his cheeks as he glanced up at Andrew from the corner of his eye. Once again hoping that Andrew would not laugh at his tactics, he looked down at the blanket covering his body.

Smirking widely now, but not maliciously, Andrew crossed back over to the couch, and reached behind it, throwing another bag at Norman.

Grinning at the sight of the plain black pillow that in the bag, Norman immediately set it onto the chair and sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. It still hurt, but much less than he had first expected. “Thanks,” he said, glancing back at Andrew with a smile. He placed the cat pillow onto his covered lap, curling his arm around it.

Clapping his hands together, Andrew pointed at the steaming casserole dish on the table. “Peach cobbler. I had to promise to weed my neighbor, Miss Hattie’s garden every month for a year to get this recipe.” Andrew blushed, looking down at the cobbler. “She only taught me that one a couple of weeks ago, and I've not practiced it. Don't know if it'll be any good. I got some vanilla ice cream to put on top. If it’s horrible, that might save it.”

Grabbing two bowls out of the cabinets, Andrew set them on the table. Using a large spoon to scoop out generous portions of cobbler for each of them, he then took out an ice cream scoop Norman wasn’t even aware  _ existed _ in his kitchen, and plopped a scoop of ice cream on top.

“I'm eating all of this, either way,” Norman proclaimed, taking the bowl when Andrew had finished. Not hesitating for a second, Norman sank his spoon into the bowl and shoveled in a bite.

“All hail Miss Hattie…!” he moaned around a mouthful of food, then started to mercilessly devour the cobbler.

Andrew smiled brightly, and sat down with his own bowl. He let out a happy sigh when he bit into the cobbler. Swallowing down his bite, he repeated Norman's words. “All hail Miss Hattie, indeed. I think I'm going to buy her several gardens worth of flowers. Wait, that means I’ll have to weed them. Never mind. I’ll buy her a fruit basket.”

“I'll be her servant 'n shit. Gonna work for all the food she's gonna stuff me with. Then she's gonna give me all the recipes!” Norman grinned, after swallowing a large bite, barely taking time to breathe in between eating.

“What good are the recipes going to do you? You can't cook,” Andrew scoffed. “She'll give  _ me _ the recipes because she said I'm cute, and she likes my accent.” 

Norman's jaw fell open, thankfully without food inside, before he turned a glare in Andrew’s direction. “She's gonna think I'm adorable! I'll get all the desserts and chocolates I want!” he countered, then promptly shoved more cobbler into his face.

“Oh, yes,” Andrew deadpanned. “She'll love watching you stuff yourself full without regard for any kind of table manners. Southern women  _ love _ that.” Turning up his nose, Andrew daintily dabbed a napkin at the corners of his lips. 

Norman rolled his eyes hard, and extended a hand across the table, flipping up his middle finger. “Pompous asshole. You Brits think you're so good with your tea and your fish and chips with vinegar and your sexy accents…”

Andrew grinned, then licked his lips, his eyes heating up the slightest bit. “Think my accent is sexy, do you?”

Now flushing bright red, Norman raised his hand higher to ensure it was in Andrew's face. “Fuck you,” he added, as if his point hadn’t been clear enough.

Andrew smiled smugly. “Already did. I'm ready for another helping if you are,” he said, though Norman thought he didn’t look too sure of that.

“I can't even fucking sit right!” Norman groaned, leaning back in his chair and retracting his hand.

“Didn’t hear you complaining when I put it in there,” Andrew said, before taking a huge spoonful of ice cream and peaches. “In fact, I seem to recall you begging for more.”

“'Course not, I was fucking high off of it,” Norman grunted, not even trying to fight it when his lips twitched up into a smirk. He gathered a heap of ice cream onto his spoon and devoured it. Swallowing, he let out a sigh.

“It's gonna suck going back to set. Everyone's gonna stare.”

Andrew looked at Norman skeptically as he licked a drip of ice cream off the back of his hand. “You can’t tell me people don’t already. You’re sexy. You should be used to it.”

A thick blush colored his cheeks, and Norman sank down into the chair. A string of soft curses left his lips and he prodded the cobbler around with his spoon. “I'm not that special.”

“You’re special to me. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah, but I don't…” He rubbed at his chin, at the prickly facial hair that needed to be tended to. “Like I'm not you or Jon. Big ass Alphas. I'm a claimed Omega, or a whatever I am Omega. Like… I dunno.” He trailed off, his brow furrowing.

Pointing his finger, Andrew leveled a glare at Norman. “You’re going to have to stop calling yourself ordinary, you know. Makes it seem like I have horrible taste in  _ whatever you are, _ and we can’t have that.”

Norman glanced up at him shyly from the corner of his eye, and he shrugged just slightly. “You have your pick of whatevers, and you did choose me… I guess that has to count for something,” he chuckled softly, but he was definitely still embarrassed.

Andrew nodded. “As Miss Hattie would say, ‘I’d do it every day of the week, and twice on Sunday.’” He laughed, covering his mouth with one hand, and grinning at Norman. “God, I love all the sayings I’m learning.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Norman laughed, scooting himself back up in the chair. “Is Miss Hattie like a pimp and has her guy harem around her because of her biscuits and chicken and cobbler?”

“Are you accusing my ninety year old neighbor of being in the sex trade, Norman?”

“Yes. No one with food that good is innocent. She's luring you into her sex trade gang. And I wanna come with you it means I get more biscuits.”

“You’ve never even had  _ her _ food. Just her recipes that  _ I’ve _ cooked for you. Are you accusing me of being in the sex trade, too?” Andrew lay his hand against his chest, and put on the best innocent look he could.

Norman let out a laugh, tilting his head back. “That's how you lasted that fucking long during my heat! It all comes out now!”

Sticking his nose up in the air, Andrew gathered up his bowl, and walked into the kitchen. “Fine. If that’s what you think, I’ll make sure to withhold all my skills from you from now on. Since I’m a dirty sex trafficker, you shouldn’t want to fuck me anyway.” Looking back at Norman over his shoulder, Andrew smirked. “I’m sure you weren’t  _ that _ eager for a chance at my arse.” 

Norman's mouth dropped immediately, and he was already struggling to get out of the chair and letting out little whines in the process. “N-no I didn't mean that! I'll pay you this time I swear!”

Andrew dropped the bowl in the sink with a loud clatter, and spun around, a glare on his face. “Pay me!? What the fuck?”

Suddenly spooked by Andrew's change, Norman sank down into his seat. He could feel Andrew's sudden shift, almost like it was his own, and it made his stomach seize up. His voice was only a soft stammer when his throat unlocked enough for him to speak. “I-I was joking. B’cause sex trade. Uh, paying for services. I didn't really mean you…”

“Jesus, Norman, relax.” Andrew puffed out his chest a little bit, and winked at him before turning back to the sink and turning on the water. “I guess I’m a half decent actor after all, eh?” 

A soft curse slipped from Norman, followed by a half-assed glare. “Fucking Brit actors…” he mock scowled, grumpily shoving another spoonful of peaches into his mouth. “Don't do that shit to me!”

“You’re just mad because I’m a better actor than you.” Andrew paused. “I can grow a really good beard, too. Can you?” 

“Oh fuck off! Omegas can't do that shit,” Norman complained, rubbing his hand against his facial hair. Of course he had to deal with another Alpha like Jeffrey, who could grow a  _ gorgeous _ beard while he just had this weird patchy shit.

“I’ll make sure and grow one soon, just for you,” Andrew smirked, as he returned from gathering dishes from the nest, and headed around to put them in the sink. “So you can envy me more.”

“Fuck you,” Norman mumbled through his food, deciding that if he could keep his mouth full that maybe Andrew would stop teasing. Maybe. It probably wouldn't work. Wasn’t even sure he wanted it to, since every tease led to a pleasurable flutter in his stomach.

“Oh, come on,” Andrew laughed, raising his hands from the water in the sink, and flicking soap bubbles in Norman’s direction. “Just think about how it’ll feel rubbing along the inside of your thighs.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and poked his tongue out, doing his best to make Norman laugh.

What he instead received was an Omega that just about choked on a peach, and started coughing hard to try and clear his airway. Eyes watering up, Norman glared and flipped him off again. “Not when I'm fucking eating, you prick! I can't eat and get horny at the same time!”

“Well, pardon me, your highness. I hadn’t realized eating and feeling aroused were mutually exclusive,” Andrew laughed. “What other things can’t you do at the same time? Walk and chew bubble gum?”

The familiar flush came back to Norman’s face, and he looked guiltily down at his food. “I almost gave myself a black eye with my crossbow already,” he admitted, “I'm clumsy sometimes, okay?”

Andrew rubbed the moisture on his palms off on his jeans and walked over to Norman. “I’ll just have to keep a close eye on you then, won’t I?” he said, bending down and giving Norman a kiss. Licking his lips when he pulled back, he asked, “Not a bad attempt at cobbler, eh? Tasty.”

Grumbling to himself, Norman reached up and playfully pushed Andrew's face away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, his face growing even redder to the point that his ears were burning.

“Anything you say, Buttercup,” Andrew chuckled as he gathered up Norman’s plate to take into the kitchen. “Anything you say.”


	18. Resurfacing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's back to work, back to civilization, where their behavior will be closely monitored. But before all that, Andrew gets to (kind of) meet someone special.

“They're gonna know. Like. Immediately.”

Norman ducked down a little bit in his seat, unconsciously curling his arms around his stomach. His blue eyes were gazing out the window of Andrew's car, and it was taking almost everything he had to stay calm. To not panic.

But every inch they drove closer to the set only made his stomach twist into more complicated knots.

“You’re working yourself up over nothing,” Andrew soothed. “Yes, they’ll know, but it’s not like they’re going to be unhappy. They’ll be happy for us.”

Looking briefly at Norman before turning his eyes back to the road, Andrew frowned, and Norman knew he probably looked like he was going to bolt from the car any second. 

“Calm down, Norm. Breathe. Everything is going to be fine.”

“I can't-” Norman cut himself off, curling his arms tighter around himself. They’d been allowed a day to recover after his heat, but they were needed back on set asap. Reaching up, he ran his fingers over the healing marks on his neck. Another claiming mark. Deep down, in a place he refused to think about too hard, he hoped it would be the last one he ever got. 

He should probably be wearing a bandage over it, Andrew was nothing, if not thorough in his claim, but… It was strangely arousing in a way, exposing Andrew’s mark to their coworkers, and all the crew.

“It's… I dunno, intimidating. What if we get in the way? If it messes up the show?”

“We’ve already talked to the people that matter the most. All the producers, directors, and even Frank are all on board with this. They’re willing to work with us,” Andrew said, reaching out a hand and rubbing Norman’s thigh lightly. “However far it goes.”

Norman's immediately wrapped his fingers around Andrew's hand, squeezing it tightly. He muttered something under his breath before he dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It was connected to a small portable battery, as the phone had been completely dead for the entirety of his heat and he’d forgotten all about it until just before they were supposed to leave his apartment that morning. 

Powering it on, he stared at the screen, only for his face to go pure white moments later. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck!” he yelled with realization, completely shattering the momentary peace. He began frantically scrolling through missed calls and messages, eyes growing wider with each scroll.

“What?” Andrew said, his voice tense. “What happened? Is your son okay? Where do we need to go?”

“Everyone thinks I'm fucking dead!” Norman yelped, wide eyes looking back at Andrew. “Shit, oh my god, even his mom called me, fuck!”

Squeezing Norman’s fingers, Andrew said, “I’m going to need some more information, love. Whose mum called you? And why does she think you’re dead?”

“Mingus’s mom. I call him every single night before bed when I'm away. And the last time I didn't call him or answer, I was in a Berlin emergency room after a semi ran over my fucking face!”

Norman groaned loudly, unlocking his phone so that he could begin to answer and apologize to the many people who had been texting him. The only one who had not messaged him long paragraphs threatening to either fuck him hard or skin him for not answering was Jeffrey, who only sent sexual innuendos of what he thought was going on in the nest.

“Shit, I promised I'd never do that to him again. And I always tell his mom if I'm going to be away 'cause of a heat or something.”

“Call him now. What time is it in Spain?” Andrew narrowed his eyes for a moment, his brow furrowing. “It’s 7am here, that means it’s 1pm there. Get things straightened out with him first, then deal with everyone else. Alright?”

Letting out a soft whine, Norman flicked through his phone again and held it to his ear. His hand tightened around Andrew's, only to blink as the phone dialed. “...Wait, did you call me love?”

His face turning bright red, Andrew untangled his hand from Norman’s and put it back on the wheel, staring intently at the road. “Er, uh. No. Maybe. I’ve no idea.”

The Omega whined at the loss of contact, his hand clenching at empty air. “W-wait, I don't mind, I kinda- fuck! Helena!” he broke off in a hiss, pressing his hand to his other ear to focus on the voice. “H-hey, hold on-” he stammered, only to wince as the voice on the other side of the phone get progressively louder. Norman jerked the phone a couple of inches away from his ear, Helena’s voice easily heard in the small confines of the car.

Andrew flinched at the increasingly loud yelling coming from the phone, and held his hand out to Norman again, wiggling his fingers in invitation.

Biting back a whine, Norman lifted his hand from his ear and wrapped his fingers tight around Andrew's. He squeezed just as he tried to talk again. “H-Helena, hold on. I can explain-” The Omega flinched again, Helena’s voice even louder now.

“But you talked to him. He told you I was-” Helena interrupted again. Norman bit down on his bottom lip, still holding the phone a little ways from his ear. “Please, I just want to talk to him. Is he there? I need-”

Norman cringed this time, his teeth gritted together. Though as he opened his mouth to reply, Helena went silent. Norman looked down at the phone and deflated into the seat. She had hung up on him.

“I'm so fucked…”

Pulling the car onto the side of the road, Andrew unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned to face Norman. “Hey, come on,” he whispered, reaching out a hand to cup the side of Norman’s face. “She’s just upset. She was probably worried about you. That means she cares, right? If she didn’t she wouldn’t bother wasting energy on being angry.”

Glancing up at Andrew uncertainly, he looked back to the phone. “She's mad I upset Mingus, not that I wasn't around. And now she doesn't want me to talk to him. 'Cause I scared him.”

Andrew thought for a moment, and then asked, “Well, he’s your kid, so he does have his own phone, right?”

“She's gonna take it away if she catches him. She's done it before. She's so protective of him and keeps trying to have him live in a fucking bubble,” he groaned softly, resting his head back against the headrest. He dropped the phone onto his lap and rubbed at his eyes. “We're gonna be late,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t give less of a shit. Mingus is more important,” Andrew grumbled, digging into his pocket, and pulling out his phone. Holding it out to Norman, he said, “Here, call him on this. It’s not you, so she shouldn’t take it away. It’s still London based. If Helena asks for it, I’ll talk to her. Tell her I’m the father of a school friend or something.”

Norman looked back up at Andrew, his brow furrowed. He opened his mouth to counter the claim, but it shut again. Hesitantly, he reached out for the phone before carefully slipping it out of his grasp. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, looking back at Andrew with glistening eyes. “Uh, you're… You're his best friend Caleb’s dad. Uh, Caleb wants to know when he's gonna come back from Spain. Good enough alibi?” Cracking a slight smile, he looked down to the phone and started dialing the number he knew better than his own.

“It’s not right. Keeping you from talking to your son. I’m glad I can help,” Andrew said, quickly brushing a kiss across Norman’s forehead before starting the car again, and pulling back onto the road.

“Hell, it was only for Ming that I stayed with his mom as long as I did,” Norman huffed softly, sinking into the chair as he stared at the phone. Swallowing, he clicked on the green button and held the small phone to his ear.

A few rings went by, and his stomach tightened up. Maybe Helena had already taken away the phone. But then his face lit up, as if fresh life had been breathed into him.

“Ming! Ming, it's me, I'm so sorry, buddy, I'm so sorry,” he immediately blurted out, his hand once again curling around Andrew's. “Hey, buddy, I'm okay. Are you okay?” he soon added, his eyes closing as he focused on the voice on the other side.

“Uh, no, this isn't my phone. It's…” his eyes opened and he flicked them to Andrew, uncertainty in his gaze. “Uh, it's a close friend of mine,” he said, wincing at his half-truth.

Andrew smiled, and nodded. He was going to have to be introduced to Mingus at some point, but now was really not the right moment. “It’s fine,” he whispered, squeezing Norman’s hand softly.

Relief flooded his face, Norman smiling as he gave Andrew a return squeeze. Though just as he was about to speak again, his face suddenly flushed bright red. “W-wait, who told you that?!” Norman yelped, eyes wide and practically spluttering out his words.

“Since when do you talk to Uncle Jeffrey?! How did you-” Norman let out a soft groan, sinking deep into the chair again with embarrassment.

“I'm gonna have a talk with Uncle Jeffrey. You're too young to- Oh. So you have a class. Where the fuck was this class when I needed it?” Norman muttered, only to flinch. “Damn it. I'm up to like, fucking 80 bucks. ...85.”

Then the Omega blinked, his gaze looking back to Andrew. “Uh, you want to talk to him? Uh… Well, he's…”

Paling a bit, Andrew gulped and hesitantly held out his hand for the phone. “Start as we mean to go on, yes?”

Still obviously uncertain, Norman chewed on his bottom lip, listening to his son on the other side of the call. “Okay, but if your mom comes in, he's Caleb's dad. Okay? And don't tell Mom about this. She's gonna freak if she finds out about him.”

Wincing to himself at his own words, he sheepishly looked back to Andrew. “Okay. I'm passing you over. Be nice to him.” Carefully, he placed the phone into Andrew's hand, tensing in his seat.

“Relax,” Andrew mouthed, before putting the phone up to his ear. “Hello. Mingus, right? Your dad told me a lot about you.”

_ “Oh my god, he always does that. Did he tell you the cat story? Again?”  _ The voice was younger, close to the same age as Chandler if not exactly the same.

“The one where you couldn’t see anything but his eyes on the black tile? No, he didn’t mention that one,” Andrew chuckled, glancing over at Norman and winking.

Norman let out a long puff of air, his anxiety being forced out of his body. The Omega was smiling, shyly, but there was obvious pride.

The voice on the other side laughed, a good sign. _ “He misses his cat. Like a lot. I think we have to let him have the cat so he doesn't get moody again.” _

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Andrew said, doing his best to stay cryptic, so he could, maybe, surprise Norman.

_ “He's right next to you, isn't he? He’s okay?” _

“He is right next to me,” Andrew chuckled, “Hanging on my every word, too. He’s got that weird little scowl on his face that means he’s concentrating very hard. I’m sure you know the one.”

“Hey!” A punch landed on Andrew's shoulder from his passenger.

“Oi! Mingus, your dad is abusing me. I guess that means he’s feeling okay. Did you know when he blushes it covers his entire chest? It’s adorable.”

_ “That means he  _ liiiiiiikes _ you!” _

Grinning over at Norman, Andrew replied, “I’m happy to tell you the feeling is quite mutual.”

_ “Good. He hasn't had a boyfriend in like,  _ years.  _ He gets grumpy and moody and you can tell.” _

“I’ll try my best to keep him in a good mood.” After he spoke, Andrew clapped a hand over his mouth, doing his best to keep a slightly manic laugh from escaping, and scarring Mingus for life at its implication.

Whether or not Mingus seemed to catch the implication or not, he laughed on the other side, but quickly turned serious.  _ “Uncle Jeffrey said he was gonna quit the show. He isn't, right?” _

Andrew shook his head. “No, he won’t be quitting the show. We worked everything out, so don’t worry about that.”

_ “'Kay, 'cause I made a bet that he'd kill a dozen zombies with Caleb. Caleb thinks he won't get to kill more than two.” _

“I’m not sure of the actual count, but at this point I’d say you’re winning that bet.”

_ “Yes! Oh, uh, I don't even know your name. Are you Andrew?” _

His mouth dropped open at that. “I am. You can call me Andy if you like. How did you know? Jeffrey telling tales?”

_ “Nah. Dad told me about a 'pompous asshole’, and you're British, so…” _

It was Andrew’s turn to ball up his fist and punch Norman on the arm. “Not all British people are pompous you git.”

_ “Is git a swear word? You and Dad are together now so it counts when you say it too! Dad owes me like 200 bucks!” _

“Uh… I don’t think git counts, sorry. It’s pretty common slang for all the kids I’ve ever known. What’s the cost breakdown here? Do you have to pay more for different words, or what?”

“Andrew! You're gonna make me go broke!” Norman groaned loudly, swatting at the Brit.

_ “Every curse word is 5 bucks. Even if it's in a text it counts. And now I'll get double the cash. And I'm counting the show, too!” _

“Oh, now that’s not fair! You can’t count the show, we have to say the curses if they’re in the script!” Andrew looked away from the road for a moment to look at Norman, and say, “Your son is a genius, and he’ll be a millionaire before his 18th birthday.”

“He didn't get that from me!” Norman complained as he reached over and grabbed the phone from Andrew's hand and put it to his ear. “No counting the show. Or any of the shit I'm i-... Dammit!”

Mingus's laughter was audible to Andrew as Norman buried his face into his knees, bright red with embarrassment.

Pulling into the studio, and turning the car off, Andrew looked over at Norman. “Does dammit count? Shit, I just…” Andrew hung his head. “We’re going to need to open up a bank account for him if you haven’t already.”

“We're dead meat,” Norman whined, eventually sitting back up again and pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey buddy, we just got on set. Signal is sh- Uh. Signal is nasty up there.”

There was a reply, and Norman let out a sigh. “Do you know when you'll be home?” he asked, and it was painfully obvious that Norman missed his pup. The reply he got didn't seem to be a good one judging by his frown.

“Okay, well, we'll make it work. Maybe I'll bring Pompous with me. Would you like that?” Norman asked, a smile coming onto his face as he glanced back to Andrew. “Yeah. Yeah.” The Omega paused for a second, blinking, and his expression softened.

“I think so too, buddy. Now get. Your mom is gonna tear me to shreds if she finds out I snuck a phone call. Love you too, Ming.” Looking down at the phone another moment, Norman let out a long sigh and closed it, holding it back out for Andrew to take.

“Now comes the hard phone call,” Andrew said, resting his hand on Norman’s shoulder. “You’ve got to call Jeffrey.”

Immediately his face fell, and the phone almost fell out of his hand. “I don't want to,” he whined softly shrinking into the chair. “We're gonna be late to set. And that's bad.”

“We don’t have to be on set until 8 o’clock.” Andrew looked at his watch, and then back to Norman. “We needed to be in wardrobe 5 minutes ago, and makeup in 10 minutes. It’s alright, we can work with this.”

Jumping out of the car, Andrew hurried over and prodded a whining Norman out of his seat. Grabbing his hand, Andrew made a beeline for the wardrobe trailer, praying fervently to any god that would listen that they wouldn’t run into Jon. “We’ll be in and out of here. Won’t take a moment. Then, when we get to the makeup trailer, you can call Jeffrey while you’re being worked on.”

The stuttering whines and excuses were left behind along with the dust from the parking lot, and quite a few confused cast and crew members who had watched them bolt. Norman managed to hold a pretty good pace alongside Andrew, even if he was much more willing to just give up if it meant that he would not need to call Jeffrey.

They had just burst into the wardrobe trailer and began searching for their clothes, large plastic bags with their names scrawled across the front on a piece of tape, when a booming voice made its presence known in the doorway.

“Hey look! They've come out of their fuck dungeon, finally! Started to get worried you two fucked each other to death!”

Andrew groaned, and thumped his head on the wall of the trailer, cursing fervently. “Go away, Jon. I’m begging you, don’t do this now.”

The man standing on the first step to walk into the trailer only blinked. “Why, what's up? You two okay?” he asked, a bit of worry in his voice. He craned his neck to look behind Andrew, only to frown. Norman, who had at first been right beside the other Alpha, had now slinked to the other side of the trailer.

Sighing in frustration, Andrew turned his head and glared at Jon. “We’re fine, but it’s been a bit of a trying morning. Family stuff.”

Frowning more, Jon called out, “Norm, man, you okay? I, uh, I got chocolate back at my trailer if you want some.” This only earned him a glare from the Omega, his eyes now ringed with gold. Jon took a small step towards him, only to immediately retreat at Norman's warning growl.

“He’s got plenty of chocolate, trust me,” Andrew said, lightly punching Jon on the shoulder. “Give him much more, and he’ll overdose on sugar.”

“Fuck that,” Jon scoffed, looked over at Norman once again. “Norm, I'm still good on that offer for chocolate. You come see me if Andy cuts you off.” He slapped Andrew on the shoulder, and stepped out of the trailer.

Once Jon's footsteps had faded away Norman made his way back towards Andrew. His eyes were still a pale gold, and they only began to dim once they were within arms length of each other.

Andrew walked over and sifted his hand through Norman’s shaggy hair. “Why’d you growl at Jon? You know he’d never hurt you. Only tease us a little.”

Norman just shook his head, faintly trembling. “I-I don't know. Didn’t feel like dealing with him,” he murmured, his voice uneven. “This feels weird. I don't… I almost dove into the rack of clothes to get away. Don’t like feeling like that.”

“You did a lot of hiding from me. Seemed to like it then.” Andrew raised an eyebrow, and smirked at Norman, before holding out his arms, and wiggling his fingers. “Come here, please.”

A hint of a blush colored Norman’s cheeks, and he ducked his head. Yet he walked over to him all the same, pressing himself against Andrew, if only for a moment, to take in a breath of his calming scent.

“Okay. Makeup?”

“Makeup.” Andrew looked at his watch, and frowned. “We’re running late. Probably going to have to wait until tonight to call Jeffrey.”

The sigh Norman gave was much more relieved than it should have been, and the purr that slipped from him only showcased his nervousness to talk to his friend. There was a lot of ground to cover, and he would have to repeat it three more times after Jeffrey, too.

Andrew chuckled, and slung an arm around Norman’s waist. “I can see you’re very upset to be postponing this call.”

“My entire life is over. No reason to live. Empty existence,” Norman droned out, nuzzling into the nape of Andrew's neck. “Absolutely shattered.”

“Well, I’m glad my presence in your life is making such a difference. I’m thrilled and flattered, really,” Andrew said, carding his fingers through Norman’s hair.

“Gimme like two minutes. I'm sure I'll find some reason to live again.”


	19. Examination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norman's been less than 100% lately. Since it had already been a few weeks after the heat, he should be recovered. Right? Perhaps a trip to the nurse is in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to some circumstances outside of our control, we did miss Fridays update. While we WOULD do another chapter tomorrow to make up for it, next chapter is EXTREMELY important and vital and we really don't wanna rush it. Some of those tags are going to go into use starting next chapter.

Pinching at the bridge of his nose, Andrew sighed loudly. “Norman, you told me you’d go to the nurse with me if I let you have all the chocolate from that stupid basket.” 

With smears still across Norman's cheeks, he licked his fingers of the remains. “...but I’m fine 'n shit. And if I’m not, I will be in a day or two, swear,” he grunted, avoiding Andrew's eyes entirely.

“No,” Andrew said firmly. “We made a deal, and you’re going to hold up your end.” He pointed at the door to the trailer. “Go.”

It had been nearly three weeks since they’d returned to set after Norman's heat. They had finally caught up on filming after their absence, and were practically on the home stretch now. They were filming within the CDC. It would be their last episode, and then they would go straight into editing.

But there was just one problem. Norman hasn't been able to work for the past three days because of how ill he’d become. Norman had claimed it was mostly headaches and nausea from his old injury from Berlin. 

But when they came to set that morning...

Jon had gone so white, Andrew had thought the Alpha was moments away from passing out. By the time he’d pulled Jon aside, Jon’s eyes had turned pure red and he couldn't stop repeating one thing: Get him to the doctor. There was something  _ wrong. _ Something smelled  _ wrong. _

After that, Andrew knew that he needed to get Norman to the nurse before the end of the day. He kept a close eye on him throughout filming, and other than needing some extra water, Norman appeared fine. Up until now, standing in front of the nurse's trailer. Andrew had to all but drag Norman to even get him this close.

The whine Norman let out was extraordinarily pathetic, to the point that it sounded more like a pup than a fully grown man. Blue eyes flicked to the trailer’s half open door, and the weathered First aid sign that was flapping off to the side.

Andrew growled when Norman still showed no signs of moving from the spot. “Norman. Now. You promised.”

The whine was even louder this time, but it was followed by a few small steps towards the door. Throwing his gaze back to Andrew, he almost shrunk. “Can you go first? Like… I don't…”

Raising an eyebrow, Andrew nodded. “If you tell me you’re not going to do a runner the second I turn my back.”

“I promise. Like, swear. I swear on all the chocolate in my fridge. Just… explain to them because I won't be able to.” Mostly because he had no idea why Andrew was forcing him to go to the nurse anyway. He knew there had been a rather intense conversation between Andrew, and Jon, but he had no clue what they’d actually talked about.

“Alright.” He walked the few steps to the door, turning his head to see Norman still rooted to the same spot. Reaching out, Andrew grabbed the handle and stepped inside, holding the door open for Norman to walk through. “Come on. It won’t take a minute, I’m sure.”

Obviously not relieved by Andrew’s words or assured in any way, Norman sulked his way inside. He would make sure that he was as close to the door as humanly possible. Just in case he had to leave.

The main nurse, a male Beta, already seemed to be ready for them. Probably because Jon or Andrew had already alerted him. Greeting them with a smile, even as Norman let out a soft warning growl, he nodded towards an empty chair.

“I was pretty sure it was going to work out like this,” Andrew said to the nurse. “If you’d overlook a bit of uh… strangeness, I think I can work it out.”

Andrew walked over to the chair and sat down, holding out a hand, and patting at his lap. “Come on. I’ll sit here with you the whole time.”

Wide eyes following his almost Alpha, Norman pressed his side tighter against the wall. He darted his gaze back and forth between Andrew and the nurse, who had taken a few steps back. The nurse raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, the smile still on his face.

Swallowing, the Omega crossed the room slowly, his eyes on the nurse at all times. He let out soft warning sounds now and then, especially when there was even the slightest movement from the nurse. Finally, he grasped onto Andrew's hand, and carefully sat down onto his lap. His body was stiff and trembling, his face unusually pale.

Wrapping his arms around Norman’s waist, Andrew pressed his face into the Omega’s shoulder blades. “It’s alright, Buttercup,” he murmured, holding back a chuckle. “I’ve got you.”

Another wordless growl, but Norman pressed himself into Andrew's hold all the same. The nurse walked to the end of the trailer, picking through supplies and washing his hands.

“So, fatigued? He's just finished a heat, correct? Any other symptoms or details?” he asked, looking over his shoulder as he grabbed a pair of gloves.

“Well, he is tired, but Jon mentioned something this morning. He suggested Norman come visit you. Something about his scent.” Andrew shrugged. “Whatever he’s smelling, I’m not getting it, so I don’t know. Better safe than sorry though.” He squeezed his arms tighter around Norman’s waist, and rubbed his cheek across his back, letting out a soft purr to try and calm his claimed Omega.

Norman just grunted in his arms, throwing back a glare. “This is because of  _ Jon?” _ Norman snorted, then sank back into his lap with a scowl.

Frowning just slightly, the nurse adjusted the gloves to ensure they were tight. “Odd…” The nurse walked over slowly, making sure that he ducked his head to ensure he was as far from a threat as possible. Norman gave another growl, but held still.

“Let's take a look, alright?” he said, back to smiling. He touched Norman's arm carefully, even as Norman tensed. Glancing up at the clock, he took his pulse. “A little fast, unsurprisingly,” he chuckled, before he leaned down and carefully lifted Norman’s wrist. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, breathing in the scent.

His brow furrowed with concentration, and he hummed to himself. Opening his eyes again, he looked to Norman. “There might be something… But it's incredibly faint. I'd like to take a blood sample-”

“Fuck you!” Norman suddenly roared, tensing back up and snapping his arm away, baring his teeth in a sudden eruption of agitation. He swiped out his other hand, missing the nurse by barely an inch.

“Back up!” Andrew snarled at the nurse, who raised his hands and retreated to the corner of the room. Turning his attention back to Norman, Andrew ran his hands up and down the Omega’s trembling sides. “Calm down, Norman. Take a deep breath, and look at me, please.”

“D-don’t touch me!” Norman hissed, almost yanking himself out of Andrew's grasp to attack the nurse. His eyes had gone pure gold at this point, scratching at the ends of the chair in an attempt to claw himself free. He seemed to ignore Andrew almost entirely.

“Norman! Calm down!” A growl rumbled from Andrew’s chest, and the nurse that was now crouching in the corner flinched. “No one is going to hurt you, just relax, please!”

The moment Andrew growled was the moment that Norman stiffened up in his arms, his entire body frozen. His breathing was still in rushed puffs, but one by one, his muscles started to loosen, and he ssank back against Andrew's body. Norman didn't speak other than a soft whine, and his eyes were still bright gold.

Frustrated at the lack of eye contact, Andrew reached out and turned Norman’s face toward his own. Locking eyes, he asked, “Why are you acting like this? He’s not going to hurt you. Just wants to draw some blood for a couple of tests. Make sure you’re healthy.” Andrew bumped his forehead against Norman’s. “You want to be healthy, right?”

Norman's eyes were still wide, and slightly panicked. What had at first been fury had turned to something akin to  _ fear. _ Why was he afraid? “H-he’s gonna find something wrong, and he's gonna…” he choked out, still trembling slightly within Andrew's arms. “They  _ always  _ find something wrong!”

Maneuvering Norman’s body until he was sitting across his lap, head tucked under his chin, Andrew did his best to reassure him, even as questions only grew in his mind. “Not  _ always _ , I’m sure. What about when you were a child? How many doctors appointments did you have where something was wrong with you?”

“S-s’not the same,” Norman whined, pressing himself and curling tighter against Andrew's chest, closing his eyes. “Not the same as bein’ a kid.” Now with the Omega's eyes no longer on him, the nurse carefully crossed the end of the trailer, keeping his eyes on Norman at all time. Just as he reached his supplies, he began to quietly prepare an empty syringe, only to look back at Andrew to await his permission.

Quietly asking the nurse to wait, Andrew turned his attention back to Norman. Resting his cheek on the top of his head, Andrew began to speak. “I know you’re afraid something might be wrong, and I can understand that. And for the sake of argument, let’s say there is. What happens if you ignore it?”

Norman took a deep breath, probably to argue against him, only to let it wheeze back out in a whine. He swallowed, his trembling now just to a light shiver. “I-it’ll go away. Always goes away,” he mumbled, even if it was pure nonsense to Andrew and just to argue against him.

Andrew hmm’d softly under his breath, still stroking his fingers down the length of Norman’s spine. “And what if you suspected there was something wrong with me? Or Mingus? Still wait for it to go away?”

“S’not the same and you know it,” Norman tried to growl, but it sounded too miserable to draw any offense.

“But it is the same,” Andrew insisted. “What you feel for Mingus, and I? We feel that way about  _ you. _ We want you to be healthy, and if you need to see a doctor to make that happen, well... “ Andrew shrugged. “Don’t make me pull out my phone, and call him. I’ll do it, you know. We’re best friends now.”

All the arguments that Norman had been constructing in his head were immediately banished by Andrew’s words, and an awkward laugh burst out of his mouth, if only to avoid a cry. “D-don't do that. He's gonna tell his mom and then shit will go down,” he murmured, his voice starting to even out again.

“Well then, I’m going to call this excellent nurse over here, and he’s going to collect some of your blood.” Andrew motioned for the Beta to come over, and kept up his stroking of Norman’s back when he felt it begin to tense again. “Turn your face into my neck, love. It’ll be over in just a moment.”

All that came out of Norman's mouth was low grumbling that may have been complaining or stating that he wasn't a baby, but either way, he soon buried his face into Andrew's chest. The nurse stepped over slowly, keeping his head down in an attempt to look as unthreatening as possible.

Reaching out, the nurse’s hand hovered over Norman's arm, the one he had clenched tightly into Andrew's shirt. He did not dare touch him, not without permission from Norman or Andrew to avoid another outburst.

“Extend your arm, love. Get this done with, and I’ll take you home, and put you right into my bathtub,” Andrew coaxed, moving his hand up to the nape of Norman’s neck and massaging lightly. “Remember how nice the jets feel after a long day?”

When Norman had been plagued by headaches and nausea, Andrew had invited him to stay at his own house. One of the first things Norman fell in love with was his large bathtub, and he didn't at all mind sharing it with Andrew, even though Andrew owned it in the first place. It was sometimes hard to get him out of the tub, and into the bedroom to sleep. 

Another set of grumbles, this time softer and more compliant. Though he hesitated a moment, he finally unhooked his hand from Andrew's chest and extended his arm. It shivered just slightly, but was stilled by the nurse gently holding his wrist.

“It'll be just a moment,” he soothed carefully, turning his wrist up and resting it on the armrest and wiping a sanitizing wipe across his arm. Norman shivered and made the smallest growl that he silenced himself a moment after he let it out.

“What do you want me to make you for dinner, hmm? I’ve got more recipes that you haven’t tried yet. Miss Hattie approved, and everything.”

“Sh-hut up,” Norman grunted, seeing through Andrew's method of distraction. But he only spoke up to make sure Andrew  _ knew _ that he knew and obviously wasn't falling for it. He just  _ chose  _ to go along with it. “L-liked the cobbler. And… and the pasta-”

His words ended with a surprised growl as the needle slipped into his arm, tensing up and shivering again.

“I think you just liked teasing me by sucking up those noodles, and licking your fingers the way you did.” Andrew tilted his head, and tried to meet Norman’s eyes, but had no luck. “I’m onto your game, Mr. Reedus.”

Another growl, with the addition of a low curse, that morphed into open swears once the needle was slid back out moments later. “There,” the nurse chirped, taping down a bandaid on the small prick on his arm, and stepping away quickly.

“I'll send this to the lab, and I should have it back by tomorrow, by the afternoon at latest. I'll check for a few arrays, if it's hormones or chemicals, etcetera,” he said, already bottling the vial of blood that was much smaller than expected, though Norman continued swearing under his breath all the same.

“Thank you… Uh, I’m sorry, I never got your name. I’m Andrew, or Andy, if you’d rather, and this,” he said, patting Norman on the back firmly, “Is Norman.”

“Norman and I had the pleasure of meeting a few times. Mostly for… on set injuries.” Chuckling under his breath, he glanced back to the two. “My name is Charles. It's a pleasure to meet you under better circumstances than an… on set injury.”

“Mother-dickbag.”

“That's one I haven't heard before,” Charles chuckled.

Andrew joined in the laughter. “Oh he’s very creative, our Norman. He owes his son a small fortune because he can’t get that mouth under control.”

“I am somehow not surprised,” Charles grinned, then turned back to the vial and began to package it up. “Make sure he rests, keeps calm, since he's still a bit of a hormonal mess after a triggered heat. Plus, heats at his age are harder for his body to handle at first. Especially since he hasn’t had one in a while”

“Fuck you.”

Cupping his hands loosely over Norman’s ears, Andrew stage whispered to Charles. “He’s a bit sensitive about his age. Best not to mention it. Or the grey hair.”

Groaning loudly, the Omega pulled himself off of Andrew's chest, making sure to flip them both off as he did so. “I'm fucking out of here. And gray my ass! I ain't gray!” He complained the entire way out of the trailer, sourly rubbing at his arm where he’d had blood drawn.

Still chuckling, Charles just shook his head. “It's a burden, having private information on patients. Especially information they like to lie about, like age. But like I said, if he doesn't have somewhere he considers safe to sleep, such as a nest, he will be even more agitated.”

“I’ll make sure he knows he can do whatever he likes to my house,” Andrew said, shaking his head at Norman’s antics. “He’s just a little on edge right now. I’m sure he really thinks you’re a lovely person.”

“It's quite alright. I understand perfectly, and it's not an unusual response, anyway,” Charles sighed, even though he was still smiling. “Any questions for me?” he asked, already sealing a container for the blood.

Andrew stood up and ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly at the short curls. “Several, actually, but I’m not going to ask them. The answers I’d like need to come from him.”

Tilting his head just slightly, Charles nodded. “If you need any assistance at all, or you have questions, I’ll be here. I believe Norman has my number as well.”

Extending his hand, Andrew said, “Thanks. I appreciate you being so… Understanding.”

The nurse smiled as he shook it firmly, having peeled off the glove first. “Like I said. Not as uncommon as you may think.”

“Andy! I'm fucking hungry!”

His eyes widening at Norman’s yell, Andrew huffed. “This is my life now, I suppose. Best to get on with it.” Waving a hand at the smiling nurse, Andrew made his way to the door of the trailer. “Fucking impatient, my god! Are you going to be ordering me about for the rest of my life, then?”

“Yeah! That's kinda the trade-off. You fuck me during my heats, and I get to complain and order you around.”

“So, if I don’t let you order me around, I don’t get sex anymore?”

“You're damn right!”

“I’d like to review my contract, please. Call my lawyer.”

\---

“Motherfucker!”

The Omega's loud curse easily swept through the halls of Andrew's home, at a time that no one in the world should still be awake. The banging of a hammer had been cut off by the curse, and was followed by low grumbles and curses at what was probably a smacked thumb.

Doors had been opening and closing all night, even though Andrew was pretty sure Norman was attempting to muffle them by shoving pillows in the doorway. There would be a few moments of peace, probably Norman no longer being in the house, only for him to come back with a vengeance, and make even more noise.

Andrew groaned, and grabbed Norman’s unused pillow from beside him, covering his face with it. Curses still leaked through into his ears. Andrew stiffened suddenly, and sat bolt upright on the bed, the pillow that was across his face going flying across the room. Was that a saw he was hearing now? 

“Norman!” he yelled, untangling himself from the blankets as best he could, and trying to get out of bed. “Norman, what are you doing? Are you sawing something?”

“Shit, I woke you up?” came the echoing shout, followed by things being dropped onto the floor. The sawing ceased, and footsteps approached. “Uh, something didn't fit the way I liked it. Just making it smaller.”

Brushing his hands onto his pajama pants, Norman stepped into the bedroom. It was obvious he had not slept at all, judging by circles under his eyes, the sweat on his forehead, bandages around his fingers, and even his rushed breathing. “I'm sorry, man, I'm trying to be quiet,” he murmured, guiltily staring down at the floor.

Andrew snorted, and then abruptly fell out of the bed, having forgotten to remove the sheet that had wrapped around his leg like a snake. Grumbling, he reached down and removed the offending sheet, glaring up at Norman, and rubbing at his now sore hip. “You’ve failed spectacularly. I’ve heard every single curse out of your mouth for the past two hours. Not to mention the hammering. Did there have to be hammering?”

Flushing with embarrassment, Norman crossed the bedroom to where Andrew had landed, leaning over and offering a hand to help him up. “I, uh, got carried away. Uh, if this is gonna be permanent, then I wanted to make sure it was good and was gonna last.”

Accepting the offered hand, Andrew got to his feet. “You couldn’t have waited until the morning?” He glanced at the clock. “It’s 3am for god’s sake!”

“Andy, we're literally booked morning to night on set. We fly around the country on zero notice for interviews and shit, and then we  _ still _ gotta catch up on a week’s worth of filming. I can’t work on it any other time,” Norman whined, ducking his head and running a bare foot across the carpet. “'m not tired. My body is fucking itself in the ass, so might as well make use of it.”

Andrew mumbled softly, “You’re not the only one getting fucked in the ass around here.”

“I'm sorry! I can't help it!” Norman groaned, and Andrew couldn’t help but think he was being overly dramatic. Throwing his hands in the air, Norman paced towards the door, only to round the corner and come back. “Like, I feel like I'm gonna fuckin’ explode if I don't get this done.”

Thinking for a moment, Andrew nodded. “I think I’ve come up with a solution. I’m going to go stay at your apartment, and you stay here. Maybe I’ll get some sleep over there.” Andrew rubbed at his eyes, and cursed. “My eyes feel all gritty. I’m going to be worthless on set tomorrow.”

Eyes growing wide, Norman immediately shook his head. “N-no, I'll stop, I swear, just don't leave. Okay?” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned to the door and closed it with his foot. “Okay, I'm done, I'm gonna go to bed. Okay?”

Moving over to the bed, Andrew sat down, and gently patted the space beside him. “Come sit next to me for a moment, please.”

His hands now fidgeting with themselves, rubbing against bruises and small cuts, Norman dropped his head and walked across the room, sitting down beside Andrew, barely allowing any space between them.

Gathering him even closer, Andrew spoke softly into Norman’s ear. “We just need to have a few ground rules, I think. We’ll both agree to them, alright? The first rule I’m going to propose is, no construction between the hours of oh, let’s say… Midnight and 6am. If you’ve got to be up, maybe there are quieter projects you could work on?”

Shifting beside Andrew, Norman carefully pushed against his chest, until Andrew relented and laid down onto the bed. Immediately once his back hit the bed, Norman planted his head under Andrew's chin, arms curling around his torso, entangling Andrew's body with his.

Taking a deep breath of the Alpha’s scent, Norman gave a little nod. “Midnight to six. Okay. I can do that,” he murmured, closing his eyes so he could focus onto Andrew's scent and words.

“Good,” Andrew whispered, rubbing his chin gently on the top of Norman’s head. “Honestly, I don’t care what you do to the house. We can’t knock down walls or anything like that, but paint, move things around, rearrange my cabinets, do whatever you like. I just want you to be happy.”

Letting out a soft whine at not being able to knock down the walls, Norman pressed himself deeper into Andrew's body, letting out a quiet purr. “Mkay… next rule?”

Absently tracing a hand up and down Norman’s spine, Andrew shrugged. “I’m not sure. Can you think of any? Anything you hate that people do?”

“Umm… D-don't take this wrong. But don't go in my nest if I'm not there. Okay? Unless I tell you to. I don't… I don't like people touching my things.” His voice dropped off to a low rumble, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

“I’ve got no problem with that. It’s a very personal place for you, isn’t it?”

Norman nodded, rubbing his cheek against Andrew's neck and chest as he did so. “It's… like a safe spot. It's not easy, dealing with Alphas all the time. Like, other Alphas, not you or Jon or people like that. It's my safe spot from outside. Does that make sense?”

“It does. So, that’s rule number two.” Andrew thought for a moment, and then said, “Having seen your culinary talents up close and personal, I’d like to ask you not to try and cook anything more complicated than a salad in my kitchen. Our kitchen. Pots and pans are expensive. The one you ruined cost me 70 quid.”

Norman winced, his fingers tightening around Andrew's arm that he had pinned down to his side. “I didn't mean to,” he murmured. “It looked so pretty and I saw the recipe you had for the cornbread. You didn't write down anything about oiling. But… I can use the microwave, right?”

“Maybe. I’ll test you out first,” Andrew chuckled. “Have you ever destroyed a microwave? Or hurt one in any way?”

“...I left the tin foil on once. …twice.”

“Uh huh… And did anything explode?”

“Maybe.”

“Despite your poor track record, I’ll say the microwave is usable. One explosion, however, and no more nuking food for you. Deal?”

“Done.” Letting out a long sigh, Norman closed his eyes and pressed his head under Andrew's chin. “So that's rule three. What about, uh… Company. Do you have people who are gonna crash here at three in the morning that aren’t Steven after Jon gets him drunk off his ass again?”

Andrew shook his head. “Not really. I’ve got family that may come for short visits, but we’d have plenty of advance notice. No one who’d just randomly drop by. How about you? Any house guest possibilities I should be aware of?”

“Uh…” Norman paused, and his face furrowed with concentration. “...Uh, my sis’s got her own life going. Uh, maybe Mingus and his mom? It depends. I gotta convince her you aren't a child predator or something,” he scoffed.

“Oh let's see…” Norman continued. “Maybe… Jeffrey, and his wife, Hilarie and their son, Gus. Jeffrey doesn't tend to give advance notice, but Hil will. Most of the time. ...I can't think of anyone else.”

“Mingus and I are already best friends, he’s welcome here any time, along with his mother. I’d quite like to meet Hilarie and Gus properly. Jeffrey I’ll take a pass on,” Andrew grumbled, his lip curling slightly in distaste.

Snickering softly, Norman relaxed his arms around Andrew and curled his hand around his arm, running his thumb along the inside of his wrist. “He probably doesn't hate you anymore. Probably doesn't like you, but not hate.”

“Does he even know we’re...whatever we are, yet?”

“Uh… kinda?”

“Care to expand on that a little bit, please?” Andrew asked, scratching his nails up and down Norman’s back.

Biting onto the inside of his cheek, Norman shivered faintly under Andrew’s touch. “Uh… He knew you were outside. My apartment. And he, uh, said I should go… Um… yeah, he knew that if I didn't make it to the airport that I would be here. More or less.”

Andrew stopped his scratching, and tilted his head down to try and look at Norman. “Did you ever actually say the words,  _ Andrew and I are together now _ , in any conversation you had with him?”

“Well this was before we, uh… Before…” Norman cleared his throat, tucking his chin to his chest before letting out a long sigh. “...no. I haven't talked to him yet about that. He's been busy with some filming, so… Yeah. No.”

Andrew groaned loudly, and dropped his hands down onto the mattress. “Norman! I may not like him very much, but Jeffrey  _ is _ one of your closest friends. Don’t you think he’ll be a bit hurt that you haven’t told him? And what about Hilarie?”

Raising up his head just slightly, Norman immediately broke the gaze from Andrew's eyes. “Jeffrey told me he was fine with it. I probably wouldn't have opened that damn door if he didn't say you were there. And… he's probably told Hilarie.” Dropping his chin onto Andrew's chest, he heaved a sigh. “They have Gus to take care of, anyway. They're busy.”

“You’re calling him in the morning,” Andrew said firmly. “Or I will.”

“Shit,” Norman groaned, rubbing his face with his hand. He spent a few moments just rubbing at his eyes, only to yawn moments later.

“Okay, I promise I'll call in the morning.” Norman adjusted himself to rest more comfortably, and closed his eyes. He pressed his hand against the side of Andrew's neck, feeling his pulse.

“So,” he began, his voice soft. “I've been doing some thinking. ‘Bout us.”

“Feel like sharing with the class?”

“No, fuck you,” Norman snickered, grinning up at Andrew and then dropping his head back down. Taking in a deep breath, he started speaking again. “So… I'm about 80ish percent of the way to deciding to do the mating thing. Which is a hell of a lot more than when we met, that's for damn sure.”

Norman stared at a random fold in the blankets, thinking, but then continued. “The rest of the 20ish is kinda complicated. Like… I've got a messy past. And I don't want us to mate and then you find out about that shit and it's too late.”

“I can’t imagine there’s anything so horrible in your past that I wouldn’t want to be with you any longer. Did you run over a hobo?”

That made Norman laugh, and helped soak away the tension. He shifted his hand and let it rest with his palm against Andrew's chest, now feeling his steady heartbeat. “Uh… No, I haven't killed anyone. It's more personal stuff. Like, the honesty thing. I don't usually talk about stuff like that.” Pausing, Norman grumbled. “I'm not making sense, am I?”

“You are. Is this the, ‘I’ve slept with this many people,’ conversation, then? I’ve got a guess, if you’d like me to make it.” Andrew wove his fingers into the hair on the nape of Norman’s neck, moving his fingers in small circles.

A small purr rumbled in Norman's throat from the slow stroking, and nuzzled in closer. “Gimme your guess. Chances are you're not gonna offend me.”

Andrew shifted around a little bit, and let out a small rumble of pleasure at his new position. “Well, let’s see here… I’m almost 37, so, that makes you what, 40? 41?”

“41. Not too old yet.”

“I’ve been with probably 20 people since that first disastrous fumble with Shelley Lancaster back in lower 6th. Uh… 11th grade. You strange Americans, and your strange words.” 

Norman let out a bark of a laugh, his shoulders shaking for a few moments. “Oh, get over yourself. It makes sense to just have years. What the fuck is  _ lower 6th? _ Wankers.” He gave a little stretch. “Anyway. That ain't bad. Gimme a number for me.”

“Alright.” Andrew pursed his lips, and gave it a bit of thought. “I’m going to give you more than me, because, while I did get a bit wild my first two years in college, I’m betting you were wilder. How about… 40?”

“That's adorable.”

Norman grinned up at Andrew, and then snuck a quick kiss onto his cheek. “First, I didn't go to college. I dropped out and went to Japan with my mom. And I didn't have sex until I was 20.  _ But…  _ I kinda liked it a bit too much.” Norman shivered, and his grin fell away, waiting for Andrew to start the accusations. 

“I think I'm up to 60ish. I had a lotta one-nighters. I just fucked around with my life until I settled in New York and started looking for a sire.”

Andrew shrugged his shoulders. “The only thing that matters to me is the last person you ever sleep with.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss into Norman’s messy hair. “And I hope that person is me, in case you didn’t realize.”

Norman huffed under his breath, and deep in his thoughts, he still didn't believe that Andrew was perfectly fine with his amount of past partners. “Yeah, I know.” Finally he closed his eyes again, nuzzling into Andrew's chest. He was finally starting to tire.

But he knew he wouldn't sleep well. Not with the possibilities of what tomorrow would bring still deep in his thoughts. He couldn't  _ possibly  _ be… It wasn't possible.

“Try not to worry about things you can’t change, Norm. It doesn’t help. Only makes things worse,” Andrew whispered, squeezing his arms around Norman’s shoulders. “Think about something happy. Like you and I in the tub earlier.”

Norman let out a little snort before he could stuff it away. “I think happy is the wrong word for that,” he teased, running his hand down Andrew's chest and resting on his stomach. He drummed his fingers on his solid torso, wondering if it was too early in the morning to get a little… motivation.

Catching Norman’s hand in his own, Andrew let out a short growl. “No. You wore me out earlier, and we have to be on set in...” Andrew rolled his head to the side, and looked at the clock, then groaned loudly, “3 hours.”

“Ah shit,” Norman groaned, then tucked his face into Andrew's side. “I don't wanna. I'm sick again. Bleh.”

“Not a chance. If I have to go in, you have to go in.”

“Didn't you read the latest comic? Everyone died. The world blew up,” Norman muttered into Andrew's skin, before finally raising his head again. He pressed against Andrew, trying to push him towards the head of the bed. “I wanna sleep. Sleep with me.”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“In order to sleep,” Andrew said, reaching out and placing his hand on the side of Norman’s face, his index finger curling to rest on Norman’s lips, “You have to stop moving these things. For at least an hour. Do that, and I’ll sleep with you.”

Norman started out with a whine, but then caught himself. A smirk replaced his expression, and he pretended to zip his lips shut, then tuck the ‘key’ into the front of Andrew's pajama pants. Maybe his hand lingered a second more than it should have, but Norman soon crawled to his side of the bed. He snagged at his pillow and placed it by the headboard, and immediately submerged his face into it.

Andrew rolled onto his side, and cuddled up to Norman’s back, throwing a hand over his waist. “G’night, Norm.”

Staying true to Andrew's request, Norman simply looked back over his shoulder and gave Andrew a quick kiss and a grin. Then with a long, tired sigh, Norman curled himself closer in Andrew's arms, closed his eyes, and let himself drift away.


	20. Say that You're Lying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The results are in. Easy to say, Norman does not take the news as expected.

One of these days, Norman was going to chew through his nail and bite off his entire thumb.

The Omega stared down at the dirt as he sat outside the first aid trailer, trying all he could to forget that he was even there in the first place. All he could think about was the smell of the medicines, of the coldness of utensils, needles, the look of pity on a doctor's face…

He shook his head to try to banish the thoughts. It had to be something else. Something normal. Maybe not having a heat in so long had just fucked up his hormones and made him a moody asshole who wanted to sit down and cry. Norman glanced at Andrew, who was leaning against the trailer beside him, his eyes focused on nothing.

They had already finished filming for the day and it was getting to be late afternoon. Charles had sent someone to fetch them, saying that he just got the results. It was awkward, trying to escape all the questions and concerns, and people would still walk past them, whispering to themselves. He saw Sarah and Steven a few times, and they had walked over with the intention to talk, only to be chased away by the growl Andrew let out whenever they got within feet of Norman.

A sharp pain in his thumb told him to pick a different nail, and so he started at his index finger instead.

“You’re going to draw blood if you keep chewing on your nails like that,” Andrew said, finally looking over at Norman.

Norman shrugged, dropping his gaze to the ground again. He forced himself to move his hand away, examining the damage. No bleeding yet. “Why did we come here yesterday, anyway? Cause Jon said so?” he muttered mutinously, his face twisting into the usual scowl.

“Jon has had experience with Omegas. You know that,” Andrew mumbled, staring off into the distance. “If he said something was off, it’s probably true. Not to mention the days of vomiting and headaches.”

“Then what happens if they don't find anything?” Norman countered, his voice still low. That was his hope. They wouldn't find anything. Or at least, not find an obvious reason for this sudden change. He took his pills. He should be fine. Norman just needed to keep telling himself that he was fine. “Do we, uh…” Norman trailed off, turning his head slowly to look up at Andrew again.

Andrew looked up, his eyes squinted against the late afternoon sunlight. “Do we what?”

“I don't know. Do more tests. Go to a hospital.” His voice had dropped even lower, and Norman had to force himself to not look away from Andrew. All he could think of was what Andrew had said the day before. What would he want to do if it was Andrew?

“I guess that’s up to you.” Andrew dug the toe of his boot into the dirt, then started kicking up dust clouds with his heel. “If nothing shows up, do you want to go get some more invasive tests done?”

A shudder worked through Norman’s body, and he dropped his head down to stare at the ground again. “No, but I want to know what you want.” Honestly, this was the first real conversation they had since three in the morning. It had been much too quiet. The car ride was nearly unbearable.

All Norman wanted was for whatever was going to happen to just  _ happen _ already. He couldn't stand the waiting.

“If you continued to feel like this, yes, I’d want you to go get some more tests done,” Andrew replied, his voice soft, and his eyes looking anywhere but at Norman.

“I don't understand what's even wrong-”

The door suddenly clicked open, causing Norman to nearly jump out of his own skin. Immediately banishing their conversation, he scrambled up to his feet and turned to look at Charles. He was holding a manilla envelope, turning through a few pages.

“Alright, if you two would like to come in, this will only take a moment.”

Turning to look at Norman, Andrew motioned to the open door. “Are you coming inside?”

Swallowing down as much nervousness as humanly possible, Norman forced himself to nod. It was out of his hands at this point, after all. Nothing he could do to change what was on the paper. He took a few steps towards the door, only to hesitate.

Norman turned and walked those same steps back, but heading to Andrew instead. He held out his slightly trembling hand, his eyes trying to meet Andrew's.

Andrew didn’t hesitate. He walked over to Norman, and threaded their fingers together. “No matter what happens, bad, good or nothing, we’ll be fine.”

The relief that flooded through his body just at the touch of their hands almost made Norman’s legs give out. Squeezing Andrew's hand as if his life depended upon it, they walked into the trailer.

Charles shut the door behind them, still flicking through pages that,  _ surely  _ he’d had more than enough time to properly study. He stepped over to the other side of the trailer, making sure to give the two room. Norman had already shrunken into Andrew's side, all confidence gone when the familiar smells of a doctor's office swamped him.

“After looking at the results of the blood work and taking into consideration your medical history,” Charles began, looking up from the papers and back at Norman, “and taking into account factors such as stress, triggered heat and a fresh claim…” He paused, looking back down at his papers.

Then he looked back up, flashing a smile. “Congratulations. You're pr-”

_ “No.” _

Norman's voice was harsh, a low growl that rivaled an Alpha’s, but it was shaky. His hand grew unbearably tight around Andrew's.

No, no, no, no. Not again.

“He can’t be pregnant,” Andrew said, wincing slightly at the grip Norman had on his hand. “He took some sort of birth control during his heat.” He looked up at Norman, and then back to the nurse. “I’m not sure what it was exactly, but he was adamant that he get it every morning.”

“ Contraceptives do fail, gentlemen. I would recommend you start taking supplements immediately.” The nurse met the eyes of both men, his face neutral. “To air on the side of caution, and to prevent a possible misc-”

“You're not fucking listening. I'm. Not.  _ Pregnant.” _

“Wait.”

Andrew spoke up, his thumb carefully stroking across the back of Norman's hand. The Alpha swallowed and gave his hand a squeeze. “Are you absolutely, 100% sure?” Andrew asked softly. His jaw was set tightly, and his foot was tapping out a nervous rhythm on the floor, and he was staring down the nurse like the answer he was going to get was the most important thing in the world.

“Yes,” Charles said, smiling at the two of them. “I’m positive.”

Norman suddenly released Andrew's hand, his shoulder nearly bumping into him as he stalked to the door, reaching for the handle. His body was starting to shake along with his outstretched hand, and he looked moments away from tearing down the entire trailer or passing out.

Quickly walking over to the door, Andrew pushed his palm against it, stopping Norman from leaving. “Where are you going? Are you alright?”

Norman’s bright gold eyes burned into Andrew's, his face twisted and scowling. “No, I'm not fucking  _ alright.  _ I'm gonna fucking burn this place to the ground if I have to listen to this shit! Let me out!”

Trying not to wince at Norman’s pained and nearly terrified expression, Andrew kept his voice soft and gentle. “Wait for me by the car? Please? I just want to ask Charles a few more questions.”

Norman’s shivers calmed some, an odd sense of relief crossing his face. His breathing hitched, so he simply nodded instead of giving a verbal answer. Norman tugged on the door again, refusing to look back to Charles.

“I’ll just be a moment,” Andrew whispered, leaning his head against Norman’s shoulder, and pressing a quick kiss against the tense muscles. “We’ll be home soon, and you can curl up in your nest. I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

The mention of home almost made Norman break down, but he managed to grasp at the smallest fibers of his sanity. Tears pooled into his eyes but he refused to let them fall. Fearing that the moment he opened his mouth, he would cry instead of speak, he simply gave another nod.

Taking his hand off the door, Andrew brushed his fingers across the nape of Norman’s neck. “This weekend I’ll take you to see Miss Hattie. I told her about your chocolate addiction, and she’s going to make you a red velvet cake.”

Letting out a soft whine of need, Norman shivered just slightly under his touch. Giving yet another nod, even when he had a thousand things to say, he finally pulled open the door. 

Though Norman only managed a few steps down when a voice asked, “Hey, Norman, how'd it go?”

In an instant, the Omega’s body stiffened up, and he whirled to look back at Jon who was leaned against the trailer, hands in his pockets. The Alpha visibly flinched as his eyes met Norman’s gold, and red flooded his own irises in response. “I-I saw you two go in. I wanted to make sure that you…”

Norman didn't bother letting him finish. Instead, his lips peeled back into a snarl, and he stalked over to him. He heard a muffled, “Oh shit!” coming from inside the trailer, but ignored it. Jon visibly paled, and opened his mouth to apologize, but was stopped as Norman leaned back, then swung out his fist straight into the Alpha's jaw. It sent him staggering to the ground, and Norman didn’t hesitate to follow and pin him down.

“Norman!” Andrew yelled, vaulting over the stair rail in one smooth movement, and running over to where the two men were sprawled out on the ground. 

Norman had Jon's shirt clenched into his hand, forcing the disoriented Alpha to look back up at him. “Why the fuck did you do this!” he snarled, tears beginning to run down his cheeks. Jon winced at his voice, reaching up to try to push the Omega off of him, only to brace himself when Norman pulled back, tensing his muscles to let loose another punch.

Andrew caught Norman’s wrist in one hand, and grabbed the back of his shirt with the other, pulling him back. “Stop, Norman! It’s not his fault!” he yelled, doing his best to stop a wildly struggling Norman.

“He had to fucking say something! Why couldn't you keep your fucking mouth shut!” Norman roared at Jon, who had pressed himself down to the ground. The Alpha moved to block the possible punch to his face with his arms. When Norman let go of his shirt to pull his arms away, it gave Andrew the chance he needed to yank him back a few feet. But the Omega still struggled, pulling against Andrew's grasp to throw himself back at the Alpha.

“What did you smell on me?! Why!”

Gripping onto the struggling Omega even tighter, Andrew pulled him backwards, and tripped over his own feet. Quickly recovering, he clambered on top of Norman and pinned his arms onto the ground, doing his best to avoid getting kneed in the back. “Calm down, Norman,” he hissed, flattening himself on top of Norman’s trembling frame.

All that answered Andrew was another snarl, Norman’s gold eyes searching for the Alpha who had somehow caused this by picking out a scent. His hands clawed at the dirt, trying to swipe out at the escaping Alpha, trying to find  _ something  _ he could attack and destroy. Anything to forget what he was just told.

Jon had scrambled to his feet at this point, backing up a few paces even when obvious instinct told him to assist the distressed Omega.

Glancing around them, Andrew bared his teeth and snarled. All the yelling and commotion had drawn an audience. This was not the place for a calm discussion, and he felt himself getting more and more angry the more people stopped to stare.

He turned his head to look at Jon, eyes nearly glowing red even in the sunlight, and growled. “Jon. I can’t deal with all these fucking people  _ and _ Norman. I’m going to hurt someone.”

Straightening when Andrew looked back at him, Jon flashed his deepening red eyes at the crowd. The Alpha bared his own teeth, and the combination of two Alpha males seething with aggression managed to frighten off most of the crew.

Cast, however, tried to stay. Sarah started to approach, only to be snarled at by Jon. The other Alpha moved to where Andrew still held Norman down to the ground, standing between them and the crowd that refused to go away. “Go,” he barked, crimson eyes darting back to Andrew.

Andrew had turned his focus back to Norman. Focusing those burning eyes on his Omega, Andrew deliberately, for the first time, reached for his Alpha voice. His body stiffened up, and the growl rumbled deep in his voice. “Norman. We’re going to get up, and head for the car. I need to get you away from all these people, and I think you need the same thing.”

Flashing his teeth at Sarah, who continued to creep closer, despite multiple warnings, Andrew loosened his hold on Norman. “Let’s go,” he growled, eyes tracking Sarah’s movements.

The moment his name slipped from Andrew's lips, Norman's entire body stiffened up. He went completely silent, scarcely even breathing as his now pure gold eyes focused only onto Andrew. The rest of the world no longer existed. He would listen only to him.

A chill ran up Norman's spine at Andrew’s growl, and he could just barely hear Jon snapping at Sarah, but his eyes never left Andrew. Completely overtaken by the Alpha voice, the pure desire to please him, to submit, he did not move until Andrew told him so.

Once his hands had loosened, Norman untangled himself from Andrew bit by bit, until he had fully slipped out of his grasp. But he remained close, unblinking eyes staring as he waited for Andrew to make the move to the car.

All this time, Jon had been trying his best to maintain a level head, but hearing the Alpha voice only made it that much harder to concentrate. He snapped his teeth at Jeffrey DeMunn, sending the older Beta scrambling to retreat.

Clasping the back of Norman’s neck, Andrew started forward, snapping his teeth at anyone who got too close. He noticed Melissa in the distance, her eyes a match to Norman’s. She smiled softly at him before lowering her head, and looking away.

It probably took them less than 3 minutes to make the walk to the car, but all the eyes on them made the time feel much longer. By the time they got there, Andrew felt like his back was on fire from all the staring. 

He opened the door to the car, and only then did he release Norman’s neck. Sliding his fingers up into Norman’s hair, Andrew rested their foreheads together. The Alpha sucked in a deep breath of Norman’s scent, then let it out with a soft growl. “Get in the car, please,” he said, his other hand squeezing gently at Norman’s waist.

The entire walk, Norman hadn’t spoken or faltered in his steps, nor did he look away from Andrew. It was an unrestricted level of trust, instinctual, and if Andrew had told him that the world was flat, he would have no reason not to believe him. His Alpha was keeping him safe. Protecting him.

When they got to the car Norman seemed to regain hold on his body, but only enough to not immediately get into the car. Instead he reached out, very carefully touching the back of Andrew's head before moving it to where Andrew's cheek rested against the left side of his neck.

“Yours,” Norman whispered, the gold never fleeing even for a moment.

Andrew lips twitched into a small smile. “It goes both ways, love. No matter what happens.”

Prodding him gently into moving, Andrew watched Norman settle himself into the car. Rounding the front, he got into the driver’s seat, taking a deep breath before he started the engine to drive home. 

Once they left the set, Andrew managed to suck in a breath unclustered by other Alphas and Betas surrounding them. Instead, it let him focus only on Norman's scent. He could feel the red within his eyes starting to fade, but he forced himself to focus on the road. Only on getting them home.

He was halfway there when a shivering hand just barely pressed against his side. Andrew could hear Norman take in a shuddering breath, then felt his fingers clenching into Andrew's shirt.

His heart dropping, the Alpha pulled over to the side of the road and parked. He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the seat, before he wrapped his hand around Norman's.

“Come here,” he murmured softly, reaching out his other arm to curl around Norman's shoulders. Within moments, Norman had unbuckled himself and had pulled himself into Andrew's lap, burying his face into Andrew's chest.

As he felt the tears starting to stain against his shirt, all he could do was stroke his hand up and down the Omega's back, scattering kisses across whatever skin he could reach, and just talking to him.

“It's alright now, Norman. We're going to be alright.”


	21. Déjà vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norman knew that it wouldn't last. That didn't make it hurt any less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains miscarriage aftermath

Being excited about something Norman was terrified of was tricky. Andrew did his best to tamp down on his enthusiasm, especially since Norman had shared some information about his previous experiences with pregnancy. The only one that ended well was Mingus, and the term “well” wasn’t the best descriptor either. Mingus was healthy in the end, but according to Norman, he hadn’t been the same since.

After that conversation, stilted, and uncomfortable as it was, Norman had refused to say another word about it. From where Andrew was sitting, it looked like Norman was expecting the worst to happen at any second. He took the pills that Andrew gave him, but he didn’t acknowledge their purpose, and, for the most part, he wandered around the house in a daze. Andrew thought longingly about all the nights he’d been awoken by Norman using a power tool, rather than just waking up to an empty bed. He’d give just about anything to get  _ that _ Norman back.

They had taken as many right steps as they could. The day after the confirmation, they went to see a doctor. Got medicine, vitamins, anything to give his pregnancy the best chance they could. Norman would rest in Andrew’s trailer while they filmed without him, in complete silence, just relaxing.

Smoking was immediately cut out, Norman didn’t even protest when Andrew threw away every pack of cigarettes he could find. They no longer joined the others at the bar on Friday nights, just to avoid questions about why Norman wasn't drinking. They were limiting Norman’s coffee intake, much to his displeasure, and even time spent in the tub with how warm the water could be. 

It seemed like every week, there were more doctors visits, and the spats Norman would have began to taper off after the first two weeks.

Filming was calmer, and as far as Andrew could tell, Norman dared to be happy after that initial week. Enjoy filming. Enjoy the company of his friends. Enjoy Andrew. As the weeks passed, Andrew had even started to catch Norman rubbing a hand over his still flat stomach.

They had told no one of the pregnancy, except Jon, who had basically sniffed it out, so the cast and crew didn’t treat him any differently. They gave the two of them their space together. Sure, part of that had to do with the fact that Norman growled at anyone who got too close, but Andrew decided that it still counted.

Andrew caught Norman scrolling through baby furniture on his laptop. Norman started clearing out the extra room, and when Andrew would ask, he just passed it off as nesting habits. There was a brightness in his eyes, warmth in his smile, and Andrew thought that the world finally was allowing them a small taste of happiness. Of what their lives could be together.

But even after doing everything right, it still all went wrong.

They had maybe a few days left of filming, and the first season would be complete. Spirits were high. Everyone was proud of what they’d accomplished. They were already discussing times and dates to film the next season. They were at the end of filming for the day, some last scenes with Noah Emmerich, Dr. Jenner, and then they were all going to head over to Jon's place to celebrate the wrap.

But then, Norman disappeared.

Every Alpha could feel that something was wrong, Andrew more than anyone else. As he followed Norman's scent to the first aid trailer, he tried to convince himself that there was nothing to worry about, that Norman just felt sick.

Charles stopped him from entering the trailer, trying to calmly explain what was happening, but Andrew refused to be apart from Norman. Nearly snapping at Charles, he forced his way to the door and swung it open, rushing inside…

They stayed in that trailer for several hours, the door locked. No one, not even Charles, could enter the trailer for fear of either what they would see or what Andrew would do to them.

It took several hours for them to pull themselves together enough to leave the trailer in the dead of night, and after spending a few interminable hours in the ER, they were home again. They did not speak as they curled up together into the nest, burying themselves in blankets and false comfort to where it was doubtful they would see the light of day. They remained there until a text came to Andrew's phone the morning after the ER trip.

_ Jon B.: Do you need anything? _

_ Jon B.: Anything at all _

_ Jon B.: We're all here for you guys _

Flipping his phone shut, Andrew sighed, and ran a hand over his thickening stubble. He just didn’t have the patience to send Jon a reply right now. He threw the phone over the wall of blankets and pillows, and flinched when he heard it thunk against the wooden railing Norman had built to surround the nest. 

Turning his head, he saw Norman was still asleep. His eyes were puffy and there were dried tear tracks on his cheeks. Slowly extracting himself from Norman’s grip  _ without _ waking him was a lengthy process. There were several points where Andrew was sure he was waking up, but somehow, five minutes later, he was standing outside the nest, looking down on a still sleeping Norman.

Andrew wandered out into the living room, while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Plopping himself down on the couch, he lay his head back and stared up at the ceiling. Andrew was completely out of his depth. He had no clue how to comfort Norman. What could he possibly do? 

Sighing deeply, Andrew gave himself a moment to begin processing his own feelings. He had to be strong for Norman, but now he was alone. A single tear tracked down his face, and fell onto the couch, darkening the fabric. Andrew took a few hitching breaths, and then rubbed his hands over his eyes. Even after what Norman had told him when this all started, the warnings, Andrew had still thought that they had a chance.

How could it change so quickly? So suddenly? That morning, Norman had felt so good, practically bouncing around set, full of life and hope… And now he couldn't so much as move from the last comforts of his nest. His partner was in pain, and Andrew had no idea how to help him. Or even how to process his own grief.

But he did know one thing. It wouldn’t do anything for either of them if he sat on the couch all day feeling sorry for himself.

Tiptoeing back to the nest, he grabbed his phone, and headed into the office. He dialed a familiar number, and was greeted with a boisterous, “ _ Hello! _ ”

He smiled an empty smile, the energy on the other side of the call doing nothing to lift his spirits, and said, “Good morning, Miss Hattie. How are you doing today?”

“ _ I’m just fine, Andy, just fine _ ,” she replied. “ _ When are you and your new fella’ coming over? I need to make sure I’ve got everything ready _ .”

“Hattie, I…” Andrew paused, and barely managed to stuff down the sob that was building in his throat. Here he had been hoping Miss Hattie had forgotten about their visit, but he knew better. “We’re not going to be able to make it today, I’m afraid. Norman is…”

A sob escaped his control, but he quickly recovered. “Norman isn’t feeling well. I don’t think we’ll be going anywhere for a few days, at least.”

Hattie was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was determined. “ _ Now you see here, Andrew, you promised me I was going to meet that new man of yours today, and I’ll be damned if that’s not going to happen _ .”

Andrew laughed softly, and wiped another tear off his cheek. He wished it was that easy. “I’m sorry, Hattie, I really am. We’re just not up to going out.”

Snorting, Hattie proposed her solution. “ _ Well then, if you can’t come out, I’ll be coming over to your place at 5 o’clock sharp. Make sure your kitchen is clean, and ready for me to cook you boys dinner _ .”

His mouth dropped open, and Andrew hurried to speak. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea-”   
  
“ _ Nonsense. Even if you’re sick, you still have to eat. I’ll see you at 5 _ .”

Andrew heard a click, and then he stared, wide eyed, at the phone. Looked like they were going to have company whether they liked it or not.

Moments after the call had ended, the screen lit up with a message.

_ Buttercup: r u ok _

Then, moments later, another message. Then another. Another still.

_ Jeffrey: wtf is going on down there? _

_ Jeffrey: Norm blew me off n Jon is blowing up my damn phone _

_ Jeffrey: he hasn't talked to Mingus _

_ Jeffery: do I need to come down there? or Hil? _

_ Jeffrey: hell, does he need his cat? _

_ Jeffrey: Ming n Helena came home yesterday _

_ Jeffrey: Helena is gonna gut u both if she doesn't get some message and I've held her off as long as I could _

_ Jeffrey: just lmk what's going on, k? _

_ Jeffrey: seriously, won't be mad _

_ Jeffrey: unless it's your fault _

Andrew walked back into the nest, and found Norman asleep with his cell phone in his hand. There was still soft vibrations coming from his smartphone, probably Jeffrey’s attempts to speak to him again. Shaking his head, Andrew smiled down at him. Leaning over carefully, Andrew pulled the phone out of his grasp and tucked it into some folds of the blankets, silencing it as best he could.

Norman needed to rest. After pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, Andrew turned around and walked back out to the living room.

Taking a deep breath, he flipped open his phone, and dialed Jeffrey’s number. It was picked up halfway through the very first ring.

_ “It's about time someone told me what the fuck’s going on. Is he hurt?”  _ Jeffrey rasped, and his heavy footsteps prowled in the background, pacing.

Andrew huffed. “Depends on what you mean by hurt.”

_ “Is he missing limbs? Lost a chunk of his head? Went to play tag with a semi again? Throw me a fucking bone.” _

“Physically, he’s fine. No missing limbs, or brain damage.” Andrew looked at the half open door, hearing a soft snore coming from the nest.

_ “Then what the  _ hell  _ is going on? Can't be anything good if no one's telling me. First I got Jon giggling like a schoolgirl a month ago, and now he's a goddamn morgue.” _

“Did Norman ever call you and explain what happened between us? He said he did, but god only knows what he  _ actually _ told you.”

_ “...He said you two were together. That you helped him with his heat. Shit like that. He can't shut up about you,”  _ Jeffrey grunted, and the pacing stopped.

A bark of laughter escaped Andrew before he could choke it back. “Jesus. He oversimplifies everything. I’m going to mate him, Jeffrey. As soon as he decides he’s ready for it.”

_“...Well, good.”_ Jeffrey muttered, his pacing stopped for the moment. _“‘Bout_ _fucking time. That doesn't answer my fucking question, though, Prick.”_

Andrew rubbed at the back of his neck, and let out some strained laughter. “No, it doesn’t,” he said, dreading the turn he knew the conversation was about to take. Looking across the living room, he forced his feet to carry him to the couch. “Listen… Go sit down somewhere, huh? And grab Hilarie.” Andrew sank down into the cushions at the same moment, feeling his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Silence lingered on the other side of the call, before there was the sound of the phone being pressed down against a surface to muffle their voices. It was obvious that it was between Jeffrey and Hilarie, and after a few moments, Jeffrey spoke into the phone again.

_ “...I got you on speaker. It's just me and Hil, but we're going to the living room. Is Norman sick? Jon said something about the docs.” _

“He’s not sick.” Andrew took a deep breath, and started talking before he lost his nerve. “He got pregnant during his heat. We took all the precautions we needed to, but it happened anyway. He started feeling off a while ago, so we got some tests done.”

Swallowing heavily, Andrew continued in a monotone voice. “Norman was letting himself believe that everything was going to be fine. Then yesterday, at work… H-he lost it.”

A pin could have dropped and sounded like a cannon. There was no sound, and for a moment, Andrew feared that they had simply hung up, or were not listening at all. But then there was the sound of something creaking, someone getting off of a chair, couch, whatever it was, and then came a muffled sob from who he guessed was from Hilarie.

_ “Shit…” _ Jeffrey hissed, his voice low and thick with emotion Andrew hadn't been expecting.  _ “I-I should have told you… Should have just went down there myself, or… Fuck, he can't-”  _ Jeffrey cut himself off, sounding as if he was being choked.

“What could you have told me that would have prevented this, Jeffrey?” Andrew asked, his voice still flat, and dull.

_ “That he's... We’ve...”  _ Jeffrey trailed off, a sign that there was no mysterious answer to what could have avoided this. Norman had been in heat, and it was just bad luck that he conceived. Bad luck followed by more bad luck.

Clearing his throat, the phone was picked up, and there was a click. Jeffrey had taken the phone off speaker.  _ “Are you with him right now? Same room?”  _ he grunted, keeping his voice down in an effort to hide it from Hilarie.

“No, he’s sleeping in his nest. I thought it best to let him rest as long as possible.”

_ “When he's awake, do  _ not  _ let him out of your sight. He's gonna get bad. Last time this happened, we thought we were going to have to hospitalize him to keep him safe.” _ Jeffrey spoke fast and soft, as if he was telling a dirty secret that should never have been exposed.  _ “He needs to be here. He needs to see his son. Needs to see Hil.” _

“We’d been planning on coming up there as soon as we were done filming.” Standing up from the couch, Andrew starting pacing around the room, his fingers clenching and unclenching by his side. “I don’t even know how he’s going to be able to finish up with the show. We’ve still got some voice work to do.”

_ “Listen to me.”  _ Jeffrey’s voice cut through, a low snarl rising up his throat. But there was desperation.  _ “That shit doesn't matter right now. They will change the script, or figure out how to work with what they got. He needs to get up here _ now.  _ I don't care if it's for six minutes. He needs his support, and that's Gus, Hil, Mingus, and his cat. He needs his  _ pack. _ You can't do this alone. Right now he's thinking the world has ended, he's failed, disappointed you, me, hell, disappointed the sparrow shitting on the porch.” _

“Fuck, Jeffrey,” Andrew cursed. “The only thing I’m thinking about right now is getting through the goddamned  _ day. _ I could give a shit about anything but Norman right now. If, once he wakes up, he decides he wants to come up there and see everyone we’ll come.  _ We. _ But I’m sure as hell going to talk to him about it before making arrangements. I may be his Alpha, but I’m not his fucking  _ master. _ ”

A sharp hiss came from the other side of the phone, and Andrew could feel the Alpha’s anger, and his composure was slipping.  _ “I don't give a shit  _ what _ you are right now! All I know is that Norman told me he'd rather  _ die  _ than lose another pup. When we lost her, I thought I was gonna lose  _ him _ , too!” _

Andrew was silent for a long moment, his mind blank, before he spoke again. “I’ll speak to him when he wakes up,” he said, deliberately speaking in a low, calm voice. “If he wants to go see you, I’ve got no problem coming. Until Norman or I contact you again, I’d appreciate you giving us some time to recover.” Andrew paused for a second, then cleared his throat. “...And I would also appreciate if you could contact Helena.” The thought of speaking to Helena himself was making his stomach roil unpleasantly.

There was a long, painful exhale on the other side of the phone, and the couch or chair creaked as Jeffrey stood up.  _ “...Alright. If you get him to come, tell him it's just to see Hilarie or Mingus, or both. He's not gonna want another Alpha within six miles of him. That means me and Helena. You're… You're his life support right now. He's… he's gonna want chocolate, want his pillow, uh…”  _ Jeffrey swallowed, his voice starting to break.

_ “...His… He's got a, uh, a cat plush Ming use to play with… And…” _ Jeffrey took in a shuddering breath, and it sounded like he was talking more to himself than anyone else.

Then there was a soft scuffling, and Andrew heard the phone being moved around. A female voice sounded in the background, speaking to a mute Jeffrey, then there was silence again.

_ “Andy?” _ the soft voice of Hilarie spoke into his ear. She must have taken the phone away from Jeffrey.

“Hi, Hilarie. I swear, one of these days we’ll meet properly. Without something life shattering happening.” Andrew spoke softly, his eyes lingering on the door to the nest longingly.

_ “Andy, don't… Don't make yourself or Norman do anything. Do what you think is right. And you need to remember that…”  _ Her voice hitched slightly, but she regained control over herself swiftly.  _ “Remember that you need to grieve, too. You don't need to be strong for both of you. Now, I want you to hang up, and go to Norman. Don't worry about anything else. We will be here if you need us, okay?” _

Feeling a sob build up in his chest, Andrew nodded before remembering that Hilarie couldn’t see him. “T-thank you. I want nothing more than to make him happy, I swear.  If I could go through everything in his place, I’d do it in a second.”

_ “I know you would. And I know that you need Norman as much as he needs you. You make him happy. And I know Norman’s headstrong and thick-skulled and he doesn't like saying what he thinks, but he does love you. None of this is either of your faults. Okay? You did everything you could.” _

“Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I’ll believe it.” Andrew quickly poked his head into the nest then pulled it back out. Norman was still asleep. “I’m going to go back to him now,” he said softly. “I’d like to be there when he wakes up.”

_ “Good. Now, I'm going to put Jeffrey in time-out for upsetting you, because he's thick-skulled too. I'm taking his phone until he calms down. If you need anything, don't hesitate. If Norman needs to talk to me or Mingus or anyone else, let him do that. Just do whatever you two need to do.”  _ Hilarie took in a breath, paused, then quickly added,  _ “Jeffrey was right about the chocolate thing though.” _

Andrew laughed. “I’ve already put a jumbo bag of Hershey’s kisses into the little mini refrigerator we keep in the room. Don’t punish Jeffrey for too long. He may be an ass, but his heart is in the right place.”

_ “Between you and me, he still needs a time-out. Now, go be an angel for Normie, and let me know if he wants his cat but doesn't want to make the trip. We love you two.” _

“I’ll ask him about making the trip up there when he wakes up. Talk soon,” Andrew said, putting the phone down, and taking a deep breath. That was a harder conversation that he’d thought, but Hilarie seemed to have a way about her. After talking to her for just a few minutes, Andrew found himself feeling a bit better.

Slipping the phone into his pocket, he made his way back into the nest. Curling up behind Norman, he wrapped an arm around his waist, and somehow managed to get his other arm underneath his Omega’s head. All without waking him. Burrowing his nose into Norman’s messy hair, Andrew inhaled his scent, and felt a shiver work its way down his spine. Closing his eyes, he hoped that somehow, things would look better when he woke up.


	22. Take a Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visitor (at least to Norman) may be exactly what he needs to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Waking up to a doorbell was the last thing either the Alpha or Omega thought they would be greeted with upon waking. That and the knocking that followed. Then the bell  _ again. _

Still clinging to the strands of sleep dangling within reach, Norman gripped into the blankets that surrounded them and gradually began to pull them over their bodies. “Go 'way,” he muttered, his voice slurred by sleep. 

Andrew echoed Norman’s comments and was trying to burrow his way further underneath the covers, when he remembered. “Shit,” he moaned, pulling Norman closer to him, and sticking his nose into the Omega’s neck.

Cracking open blurry blue eyes, Norman tried his best to rub away the remnants of last night’s tears, and winced. “Wha’ happened? Did’ja order somethin’?” Norman's slow mind tried to attach some kind context to Andrew's reaction, but he was coming up blank.

Andrew’s reply was muffled in Norman’s neck, so Norman poked at his side with a finger. “Can’t understand ya, dumbass.”

Pulling his head back, Andrew looked at Norman sheepishly. “I meant to wake you up earlier, but I guess I forgot to set my alarm. It’s Miss Hattie. I called her earlier to postpone our visit, but then she insisted on coming over here and making dinner for us. It must be 5 o’clock.”

It was fascinating watching Norman's brain work, especially when it was partially asleep. His eyelids were drooping, and he seemed to be moments away from shrugging and going back to sleep. That is, until Andrew’s words suddenly clicked, and Norman’s eyes went impossibly wide.

“Shit! Fuck, nothing's ready! Fuck, the house is a mess, there's dirty dishes,” Norman yelped, struggling to free himself from the blankets and only tangling himself up more.

Rolling himself on top of Norman, Andrew chuckled. “Relax, I tidied up already. I’ll go get the door, you go get cleaned up.” 

Blinking up at his Alpha, Norman's muscles gradually relaxed. “Oh. Do I, uh, need to wear something special? I got nice shit. Somewhere. I think.” His voice was still in a low mumble, eyes foggy and blurred.

Pushing himself to his feet, Andrew shook his head. “Not necessary. Wear whatever makes you comfortable.” Kissing the top of Norman’s head, Andrew smiled at him, then left to go answer the still ringing doorbell.

As he got closer to the door, Andrew could hear Hattie cursing up a storm on the other side. “I’m coming!” He yelled, trying, and failing, to contain his smirk. Quickly pulling on a pair of pants, he mumbled. “I didn’t want to answer the door starkers!”

“That ain't what you're thinking when I come home!” Norman called from the nest, over the sound of him scrambling through the nest to find a shirt. He was still in the sweatpants he had changed into on set, but chances were high that he’d want to change out of those too. Maybe he'd just rather a shower.

Andrew opened the door, and immediately had his arms filled with grocery bags, and his ears filled with a scathing diatribe on how he shouldn’t have kept an old woman waiting for so long, and wasn’t he brought up better than that?

He was standing there with his arms full, and his mouth hanging open when Hattie finished her lecture. She grinned at him and turned up her cheek, brushing her fingers across it to swipe away imaginary dirt, and said, “Don’t just stand there! Gimme some sugar!”

There was the soft squeaking of the door hinge leading to the nest being opened, and Norman peeked carefully around the corner. Twisting his hands into the change of clothes he had gathered up, he sucked in a breath to bolster any strength he could find.

Hoping that Andrew had Hattie distracted, as he couldn't see past the huge bags of groceries in his arms, he carefully started to make his way down the hall. The bathroom was just a little ways down the hall…

Pressing close to the wall, he invested whatever skill he’d gained from playing Daryl into sneaking away from his nest, and into the bathroom.

Hattie chuckled as Andrew’s stubble brushed across her rounded face, and whispered into his ear, “That must be your man trying to sneak down the hallway. He’s cute!”

Andrew flushed, and looked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Norman’s body sliding around the corner, toward the bathroom. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, juggling the bags in his arms. “He’s going to have a bath. We overslept.”

She reached up and patted at Andrew’s cheek. “No problem, sweet boy. Go put them groceries away now. Before they sweat through the bags!”

“'s nice to meet you.” Norman’s voice floated out from behind the closed bathroom door, still quite hoarse from just waking up. “You better do what she says, Andy, since she's making dinner.”

There were a few noises from the bathroom, then came the sound of the shower. Andrew knew Norman would take his time cleaning up. The shower he’d taken once they got home from the hospital had been short and perfunctory.

Andrew shuffled into the kitchen, carefully cradling the paper bags full of groceries. Settling them down onto the counter, he started unloading and putting things away. “What are you making?” he asked, taking out a large block of cheddar cheese, and unconsciously licking his lips.

“Never you mind,”  Hattie scolded, lightly slapping the back of Andrew’s hand. She let out a load peal of laughter at the pout Andrew sported after her light tap. “Give me a break, Andy. Put the puppy dog eyes away, you’ll find out what we’re eating when I’m ready, and not a second earlier.”

Meanwhile in the bathroom, Norman's sweatpants had been stuffed down into the trash can by this point, and even if they were  _ technically _ salvageable, it wouldn't be worth it. First things first, he took the time to do as the doctor said and took his temperature. He was fine, of course. Physically. Other than the aches and pains that followed having his heart ripped out of his chest.

It was hard to maneuver in the bathroom without wanting to sink straight into the gorgeous tub and instead choosing the closed in shower in the corner. Even if it sounded ridiculous to anyone but himself, and even when the doctor told him to not take baths, he didn't take it because he didn't want to stain or leave anything behind in the tub. He just… Just wanted to have a quiet moment and let the sound of the shower muffle his thoughts.

Stepping into the hotter-than-it-needed-to-be water, he winced and twisted the cold knob just a fraction more. Leaning his back against the wall, he allowed himself to slide down into a sitting position on the cool tiles, winced again when he landed.

Everything was sore. Everything hurt. But he couldn't take too many pain medicines or that would be another mess he'd get himself into. God, what he wouldn't do to just have a smoke, or five. But Andrew didn't like smoking in the house, of course. Wanted to do it on the porch. Andrew had even agreed to quitting with him when they found out, not that Andrew smoked half as much as Norman himself did…

Well, guess it didn't matter anymore.

He let the water beat against his body, doing little to actually get himself clean since he was just curled up into the corner. When it would start to get cold, he would stretch his hand out just enough to twist the cold water down another notch.

Norman watched the water go down the drain, flushing away the impurities on his skin. He tried to just let his mind go blank, or focus on something insignificant like a small crack in a single tile, but his thoughts would always circle back to now. 

The good part about a shower was that it was hard to tell that Norman was crying silently. He didn't want to worry Andrew anymore than he already had. Or Miss Hattie. Hell, this was going to be a great first impression.

'Hey, Miss Hattie. I'm Andrew's whatever I am, and I just miscarried our baby, so don't mind me fucking dying inside and ruining the party.  _ Great _ pie by the way.’

Pressing his head into his hands, he released a few sobs that were trapped inside his throat, no longer caring if he was heard. He just needed to get it out while he could still hide it, even when all he wanted was to tear down the walls and scream.

Norman must have been in there much longer than he realized, because the water had gone completely cold, and apparently Andrew had been knocking on the door for some time before he managed to find the key to open it. The sound made his head tilt up, trying to blink away the tears and level his shuddering breath.

Andrew said something, but Norman couldn't hear it over the shower. He wasn't exactly paying close attention, either. The glass door distorted his view of his Alpha, but eventually, Andrew walked over and opened the glass door slowly, as if he was afraid of Norman being startled.

God, he just had to look like a mess. Just awkwardly sitting on the ground, curled up, trying to ignore the pain in his body that was a constant reminder of what happened. “'M sorry,” he mumbled, even though he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. He had been doing a lot of that since last night.

Shaking his head, and smiling sadly, Andrew stepped into the shower, fully dressed, and shut off the water. Crouching down, he cupped Norman’s cheek, and leaned in to press a soft kiss on his forehead. “Are you up to company? I can always put things away, and you can eat them later. Meet Hattie at a better time.”

Norman swallowed down his first instinct to say that he didn't want anyone around. That he wanted to be by himself, but he knew that wasn't healthy. And it wasn't fair to either Andrew or Miss Hattie, who had come all this way after constantly rescheduling. Starting to uncurl himself from against the wall, he shifted closer to Andrew, even while soaking wet.

“I can do it,” he murmured softly, his eyes focused on Andrew's. “Just… How much does she…” He trailed off, biting onto his bottom lip, unable to say the words out loud.

“I hinted around it,” Andrew said, helping Norman stand up. “She’s a smart woman, so I’m sure she understood what I was trying to say. The giant hug she gave me afterwards was another clue.”

Leading Norman out of the shower, Andrew grabbed a towel, and began methodically drying him off. “Four star service, eh?” Andrew smiled from his position at Norman’s feet. “Next you’ll want me to heat up your towels before I dry you off.”

The Omega snorted in surprise, his body quivering with laughter he tried to choke off, instead making odd snickering sounds. “I-I’d give you five stars if you did that. Maybe do something else while you're down there.” The smile on his face was a mixture of shy and heartbreaking. His attempt at seduction so automatic, he started snickering nervously.

Andrew dropped the towel, and pressed both hands against his chest, looking up at Norman through his lashes. “Why, Mr. Reedus! I’ll have you know, I’m not that kind of girl!”

Now fully grinning, Norman leaned over and grasped onto Andrew's chin, tilting it up. “I think I can change that pretty damn easy,” he purred. “Give me two minutes, and I'll help heat up those towels with you.”

Blushing, Andrew picked up the towel, and mumbled under his breath. “More like two seconds with you. Can’t seem to keep it in my pants at all.”

Practically jumping to his feet, Andrew aimed a blindingly bright grin in Norman’s direction. It would have been completely believable if Norman hadn’t seen the real version. “I’ll just go tell Hattie we’ll be a bit longer, shall I?”

His grin dropping to a smirk, he tilted his head. He reached out and grasped onto the towel, brushing their hands together. “I'll be out in a sec,  _ Farmboy. _ Maybe later we can make up an excuse to hide in the bathroom together.” Tightening his hand on the towel, he gave it a soft tug.

“How about we go eat dinner, which is ready by the way, and after Hattie leaves we come in here, and have a long soak. Sound good?”

“I can’t. Doctor’s orders. I’ll take a massage in the nest, though.” Leaning over, Norman pressed his lips softly to Andrew's, only to move back. “Wait, how long have I been in here?” he asked, his brows furrowing together.

Andrew shrugged. “About an hour. Long enough for Hattie to finish making dinner.” Andrew walked over to the door, and cracked it open. “Can’t you smell it?”   


All Norman needed was one breath for his eyes to tinge gold.  _ “Fuck,” _ Norman breathed, eyes wide. “She's not a sex trafficker. She's Lucifer luring us into hell and I'm fucking fine with that.”

“Wait until you see dessert,” Andrew smirked. “I told her you liked chocolate, but I think she may have gone a bit overboard.”

Suddenly launching himself forward, Norman shoved Andrew out of the door. “You're distracting me! I'm gonna have to jack off if you keep talking like that!” Norman whined loudly, the gold spreading in his eyes.

Laughing loudly, Andrew let himself be pushed away. “I’m guessing you’ll be out shortly? That macaroni and cheese isn’t going to eat itself.”

“Dude!” Norman groaned loudly, finally shoving Andrew out of the bathroom. “I ain't gonna start streaking in front of Miss Hattie 'cause you keep working me up!” As soon as Andrew was clear of the doorway, Norman slammed it shut, and soft cursing seeped out from the inside.

Still laughing, Andrew made his way back into the kitchen where Hattie was putting the finishing touches on the green beans. Watching her fuss over them, he smiled, and asked, “Why are you glaring at the beans? What did they ever do to you?”

Hattie scowled at him, her hands on her ample hips. “They’re better when they’re fresh. I canned these, and they don’t taste like I wanted them to. I even added bacon, and they’re still not right. I wanted everything to be perfect for your man, especially after...”

Crossing the few feet between them, Andrew put an arm around Hattie’s shoulders. “All I’ve told him about is the macaroni and cheese, and he’s already about to burst with excitement. I’m sure the beans taste amazing.”

Flushing, Hattie slapped the dish towel she held in her hand at Andrew. “Shush. You’ll turn my head.”

Within moments, the door to the bathroom had opened up again, and Norman walked briskly towards the kitchen. “Uh, hey, sorry,” he said, trying not to trip over his words as he used the towel to dry off his hair. “Didn't mean to go disappearin’ like that.” Norman paused at the doorway, his eyes immediately staring down at the food. There was still a glimmer of gold within his eyes.

Immediately pushing herself away from Andrew, Hattie made a beeline for Norman. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pulled his head down until it was resting on her chest, and proceeded to squeeze him like her life depended on it. “You don’t worry about anything sweetie, but sitting yourself down at the table. I can see, and _ feel _ ,” she said, her fingers poking at Norman’s ribs while she was hugging him, “That I’m going to need to feed you up! You’re too skinny by half!”

Obviously bewildered, Norman let out a soft yelp as he was almost dragged to his knees. A thick blush crossed his face as he was squeezed tightly against her chest, and he couldn't help but wrap his arms around her and squeeze her back. His entire body relaxed within her grasp, a soft smile on his face and he chuckled. “I'm not that thin! It's Andy you gotta worry about,” he teased, glancing over at Andrew over her shoulder.

Detaching herself from Norman, Hattie grabbed his arm, and towed him over to the table while a grinning Andrew watched. “Andy knows how to cook, child, but you don’t. I’ll have to take extra special care of you,” Hattie smiled, pushing him down into a chair, and patting gently at his cheek. “You just sit right there, and I’ll bring you a plate.”

While Hattie bustled off into the kitchen Andrew walked over and sat down next to Norman, grinning widely. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

With eyes still wide, Norman couldn't stop himself from grinning back. “Dude, she's the best! Can she adopt me?! Please?” Norman said, practically jumping in his chair with childish joy. “Can she adopt us? Or does that make us siblings? Is that weird? Are we illegal now?”

“I think her exact words to me were something like, ‘You and that man of yours are just like my grandchildren, and I’ll spoil you just like I spoil them, so shut up and take this pie I made, or I’ll go get a switch.’” Andrew laughed, and leaned in to whisper in Norman’s ear, a bit of fear threading through his otherwise happy voice. “I’m pretty sure she meant it about the switch.”

“Dude, what's a switch? Are we really going to be prostituted off after all?” Norman whispered back, his eyes growing wider by the moment. He snuck a look over his shoulder, then looked down to Andrew. “Is this going to turn into Hansel and Gretel?”

“From what I gathered, she was going to smack me with a tree branch. Apparently when she was a child, that was her punishment. Her parents made her go and select it herself, too.” Andrew shuddered. “Seems like that would mess with your head a bit. Picking one out that’s the right size? Not too small, because you’ll just have to go back and get another one, wouldn’t you?”

The smile fell off his face, followed by one of mild horror. “That’s fucked up. I'd  _ never  _ do shit like that to my pups. Mingus got a swat to the butt once, and only once, and that was from Helena. So if he's scarred for life, I'm blaming her.”

Reaching out and taking a long drink from the glass of sweet tea in front of him, Andrew quirked an eyebrow at Norman. “Different time, I suppose,” he said, licking his lips. “For the record, I’m not a fan of corporal punishment either.”

“Well, we got that shit settled then,” Norman sighed, looking to his own glass. He opened his mouth as if he was going to add something, but seemed to change his mind and instead picked up the glass to take a sip. “Not something we gotta worry about,” he muttered, mostly to himself and the glass at his lips, before taking another drink.

Hattie walked back in then, not giving Andrew any time to reply. Instead, he slid his hand across the table and twined his fingers with Norman’s, pulling their joined hands over to rest on his thigh, and giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“You two are just the sweetest things,” Hattie gushed, setting down two heaping platefuls in front of them. “Now you eat up! That’s my mama's special chicken fried steak, and gravy. Macaroni and cheese, and some home grown green beans, with bacon and onion.” She stood back from the table, a proud little smile on her face.

Norman almost dropped the glass in his hand at the sight of the food, the previous conversation forgotten in an instant. “You had me at fried,” he gasped, setting down the tea and pulling the plate closer. He gave Andrew's hand a squeeze beneath the table, picking up the silverware and already about to dig straight into the food.

“Shoot!” Hattie said, jumping up from the seat she’d occupied for less that two seconds. “I forgot the cornbread. You boys eat, I’ll be right back.”

Having almost dropped his fork and about ready to start a slew of apologies for starting to eat so quickly, Norman instead dumbly watched as Hattie rushed her way out of the room and back to the kitchen. Blinking, he glanced down at his food, then at Andrew, unsure if it would be polite to start without her.

“She’ll be right back,” Andrew said, bumping Norman’s shoulder with his own. “Dig in. Before it gets cold.”

Breezing out of the kitchen with a covered cast iron skillet in her hand moments later, Hattie set it down on the table with a flourish. “My mama’s cornbread. I brought the pan over special so I could make it for you. Been in my family for over a hundred years.”

As if Norman couldn't fall more in love with Hattie, the smell of the cornbread had him salivating near instantaneously, to the point that it would put Pavlov’s dogs to shame. Licking his lips, Norman immediately shoved his fork into the food again and took the first bite.

Andrew could tell that Norman was fighting the urge to make lewd compliments about how orgasmic the food was, and instead settled with near constant purring and happy groans as he started to devour the food. One thing was for sure; Norman would never go back to pizza rolls again.

Hattie looked pleased as punch with all the noises coming from Norman. She looked over to Andrew and gave him a little nod, and a smile tinged with sadness. He’ll get through this, that smile seemed to say. I’ll help you. Andrew returned the smile, and then turned his attention to his plate.

Later on, when all three of them were sitting back in their chairs with content smiles, and overfull bellies, Hattie turned to Norman. “So, Norman. I’ve heard you’re a fan of chocolate. Is that right?”

Norman was currently slumped back happily, eyes half-lidded and soaking in every delicious flavor of the food he had just eaten, yet he still jumped up at the word 'chocolate’. Sitting up straight, his eyes glowing, he nodded. “F- I mean, hell yeah!” His cheeks turned red with embarrassment, and he was still struggling to maintain some level of maturity and politeness.

Hattie’s smile widened. “Andrew,” she said, turning laughing brown eyes onto the other man, “Why don’t you go on in the kitchen and bring out Norman’s surprise.”

“Yes ma’am,” Andrew grinned, quickly making his way out of the dining room, and into the kitchen.

It took everything Norman had to not leap out of his chair and race after Andrew, his eyes bright with childish wonder. “I get a surprise?!” Norman squeaked, grinning widely back at Hattie. His eyes flashed back and forth from Hattie to the archway, craning his neck to see whatever the surprise was.

“I made it special, just for you,” Hattie said, as Andrew walked back into the room with a large covered dish, and sat it in the center of the table.

“I’m gonna give you a little bit of advice before I let you open it up, now.” Hattie looked serious, with the exception of a small twinkle in her eyes. “It’s very rich. Don’t take too much, or you’ll make yourself sick.” She sat back against her chair, her smile wide. “We’ll let you do the honors. Unveil it, before you vibrate off your chair.”

Said chair was almost rattling with Norman's excitement, his blue eyes wide and pupils blown, ringed with gold. Sucking in a deep breath already able to smell some of the chocolate even from beneath the lid, he licked his lips in anticipation. “Sounds like you're giving me a challenge,” he rumbled, reaching out and grabbing at the top of the lid.

Sharing one last look with Andrew, he took in another deep breath before lifting the lid in one smooth burst.

The Omega's mouth dropped as he stared at the chocolate beast before him, nearly dropping the lid back down onto it. It was a deep chocolate cake, Devil’s chocolate, and it was covered with small chips and shavings of chocolate. Then on top of that, little swirls of chocolate frosting. Then on top of _ that _ , little Hershey's kisses.

“I'm gonna go into a diabetic coma and I don't give a  _ fuck. _ ” All restraint gone, he immediately started searching for a knife to cut a slice, which may or may not include half the entire cake.

Andrew chuckled, and slid the knife across the table. “Looking for this?”

“Yes!” It may not have been wise to let the trembling Omega wield a large knife, but his only victim would be the cake. Within moments, he’d clumsily cut himself a thick slice that he toppled down onto his plate. It was nearly impossible to keep a piece of cake standing upright, or at least Norman would use that as an excuse.

His eyes widening at the massive slice Norman had cut himself, Andrew took back the knife. Cutting much more reasonably sized pieces for himself and Hattie, he sat back, and took his first bite. A strangled moan came out of his mouth, and he looked across the table to see Hattie grinning smugly at him. 

That moan was echoed moments later, even louder as Norman took his first bite. Any room for praise over the cake was shoved away as he stuffed another piece back into his face. By the third, Norman seemed to be much less enthusiastic. The fourth, and Norman had to take a few drinks of his tea.

“Shit, you weren't lyin’,” Norman muttered, licking his lips.

“I did warn you,” Hattie said, shaking her head. “You need a glass of milk. Andy, go get Norman a glass of milk.”

Setting his fork down, Andrew asked, “What about you? Coffee? Or would you like a glass of milk as well?”

“Milk is just fine, Andy, just fine. Even an old gal like me likes a nice, cold glass of milk every now and again.”

While Andrew was in the kitchen, Hattie turned to Norman. The Omega glanced up to see her eyes softening, and Norman's stomach churned. He knew that look. “Andy told me about what happened. Not in so many words, but I got the jist of it.” Reaching across the table, she laid her hand on top of his, and patted it softly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know, from personal experience, just how hard that is.”

Norman went silent, lowering the fork and setting it back onto the table. The entire mood shifted, and he stiffened slightly in his chair. Immediately dropping his gaze, Norman stared at a random spot on the table cloth. His shoulders lifted then fell.

“It happens,” he murmured, his voice soft. “S’not the first time. At least I have a pup, even if it means I can't have anymore.” The words were more or less tumbling out at this point, his hand clenching beneath her touch.

“It does happen. Too often, and to too many people.” She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I was 16 the first time I got pregnant.” At Norman’s shocked look, she laughed. “Never been the most proper of ladies, if you were wondering.”

Continuing to pat at his hand, she went on. “I fell in love. He was a wonderful man. Looked a bit like your Andy, if I’m truthful. Same sort of eyes. So bright you can hardly stand to look at them sometimes. I ran away from home, and went over to his place, expecting to be swept off on a whirlwind adventure.”

Hattie chuckled. “There was a whirlwind alright. Him, trying to gather up all his things and light out of there when I told him I was carrying. Didn’t matter much though. I lost it about two weeks later. Never saw hide nor hair of him again.”

Norman visibly flinched at that particular word, lost. A word he heard too often. It was supposed to be a kinder way to say it, as if it was something as simple as a toy that could be recovered. “He didn't fucking deserve you,” he grunted, hostility in his voice towards the pathetic excuse of a man.

His eyes looked back up, just for a moment to meet her eyes, then looked back down. “I, uh… I decided I wanted a pup, but didn't have an Alpha. Never really found anyone. Signed up for the fucking 'breeding program’ and shit like that, matching people up to raise pups. Got matched with a lady Alpha I didn't much care for, but I caught, and I was… so fucking happy.”

Norman bit down onto his bottom lip, his nails digging into the table. “I… almost lost him. His placenta wasn't in the right spot, ruptured and started bleeding. It fucked up a lot of shit in there, and we both could have died. I told his sire that if it was between him or me, to save him. I just… I guess I can say I fell in love with him  _ way _ before he was even born.” Norman gave a small shrug. “I had no second thoughts, even if it would’a killed me.”

“I fell in love with all my babies, too. That’s just the way it happens.” She patted at his hand again, and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here. And your pup. I expect to meet him sometime. Soon.”

Withdrawing her hand, Hattie wiped at the corner of her eye. “I never a problem catching, but it never stuck. Back in those days, I was what they called damaged goods. No Alpha wanted anything to do with me until I met my James. I told him from the start that there wouldn’t be any kids, but he didn’t care.”

Looking up at the ceiling, Hattie giggled. “That man had a way about him. Damn near had palpitations every time I looked in his eyes. One day, he came home with a baby that couldn’t have been more than a week old, and said to me, ‘Hattie, this is Adeline, and she needs a mama.’

“When I tell you I grabbed that little girl up quick, I’m not lying. She was a blessing for me, because even though she wasn’t really mine, she  _ was. _ ” Hattie wiped a few more tears from the corners of her eyes. “James and I took in 5 more kids over the years, and I love every one of ‘em just like they were my own flesh and blood.”

It wasn't until he heard his own tears drip onto the tablecloth that Norman realized he was crying, and started trying to wipe them away. Knowing that she’d managed to get through it, raising six pups… Clearing his throat as best as he could, he dipped his head. “Ever since Mingus, I was thinkin’ about… Adopting. But I kept working to get my heats going, even if it fucking hurt, ‘cause I kept thinking this time would be the time…”

Sighing loudly, he rubbed at his eye. “I've been thinking about just… going to the doctor's and just getting that shit out. No use anymore. I can't stand being the reason a pup dies, even if it was before it was born. Might as well get rid of the risk.”

Hattie turned sharp eyes onto Norman. “If I ever hear you say it’s your fault again, I’ll take a switch to your backside, you hear me? It’s not your fault. Do you think it’s my fault that I lost my babies?”

Wincing, Norman stared down at the ground. He stammered for a few moments, his face flushed, before he managed to make out a coherent thought. What he spewed from his lips was anything but coherent. “I-I worked too hard with my first pup. Screwed up my body. Never recovered. If I hadn't messed myself up, had to get him cut out and have them screw with my insides, then maybe…” Norman trailed off, turning quiet, before lifting his eyes to look back at Hattie. Tears still hung in his eyes, almost constantly sliding down his cheeks.

“Andrew!” Hattie yelled, never taking her eyes off Norman, “Go out to that little sycamore tree and get me a switch!” 

Stumbling into the room, Andrew wiped at his eyes. It was obvious he’d been listening. “I, uh… I don’t want to?”

Hattie snorted, and folded her arms across her chest. “You got yourself a stubborn one here. Gonna take some effort to make him believe it’s not his fault that this happened.”

“I’m all too aware of that.”

“Now you listen here, Norman, and you listen good.” Hattie thumped her fist onto the table, and poked a finger into his chest. “If you decide to get fixed, or whatever you want to call it, that’s your decision. And adoption is a wonderful thing, if you two decide to go that route. It saved my life, and that’s no lie. Gave me purpose.

“But wouldn’t you know it, after Addie, Harold, Lucy, and Faith came into my life, I caught one more time. And by god, I had my own baby. After they all told me it wouldn’t happen, I did it. Maybe I did it just to spite all the ones who told me I was worthless.

“Now, I’m not saying that’ll happen for you, but never close your mind to the possibility. If you want it bad enough,” Hattie said firmly, thumping her fist down again, “Anything is possible.”

Every time her fist hit the table, Norman would jump, and he had been moments away from fleeing the table to hide from being 'switched’. But something held him there, telling him to listen. Even as it stunned him into silence.

He opened his mouth once she has finished speaking, only to close it again. In a careful motion, he tucked his arm around his stomach, dropping his gaze to the table. “Does… Does that mean we should…” Glancing over at Andrew from the corner of his eyes, his arm tightened around his stomach.

He swallowed, then lifted his eyes to look back at Hattie. “Does that mean it's… okay to keep trying? It's not… selfish? Or… or c-cruel, o-or…”

“Of course it’s okay, child. If you want a baby, I believe you’ll have one,” Hattie said, getting up and sitting down beside Norman, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I think you two have too much love in you not to spread it around a little.”

When Hattie touched him, Norman didn't flinch. Instead, he looked up at her, blue eyes filled with tears, but there was something desperate within his gaze. The desperate desire to hope. To dream. That maybe, Norman would have what he desired most with Andrew.

A pup. A baby.

All the ache and the emotions choked him, a sob rising up his throat, before he finally let himself break. He clung to Hattie, pushing his face into her chest, and let himself cry every ugly sob he’d been holding back.

The old woman just wrapped her arms around him, and let him cry. Humming softly under her breath, she swept her hands up and down Norman’s heaving back. “It’s alright sweetheart, you get it all out, I’ve got you.”

Andrew, tears shining in his eyes as well, walked up behind them and wrapped his arms around them both, tucking his face into the space between Norman’s shoulder, and Hattie’s chest.

It took several minutes for the Omega to start to calm down. Sobs slowly turned into sniffles and shivers. Yet he still clutched at Hattie, one arm curled around Andrew to pull him in closer, too. Swallowing down a shuddering sob, he tangled his fingers into Andrew's hair and pulled him closer, pressing their foreheads together.

With a few final pats, Hattie let go of Norman and rose to her feet. Looking down at them both, she smiled. “I’ll clean up in here. You two go on to bed. A little time together in your nest will do you good.” When they just looked at her blankly, Hattie snapped her fingers, and pointed at the door to the nest. “I said, bedtime! March!”

Norman looked back up at Hattie, blinking back his tears and glancing back to Andrew. Though as soon as she snapped her fingers, he jolted to his feet. “Y-yes ma’am,” he stammered, grabbing at Andrew’s wrist to tug him out of his chair. As soon as they got a few feet away, he stopped. “You sure? Uh, we can…Help? Uh…”

Hands already full of their empty plates, Hattie turned and glared at them. “No. Bed.” Halfway to the kitchen she turned around. “I’ll lock up, don’t worry. I brought the key Andy gave me.”

Huffing softly but not one to argue about someone else washing dishes, he looked back to Andrew. Norman shrugged with one shoulder, as if trying to ignore the fact that he had just spent several minutes crying. Norman didn't like exposing his softer side, and kept mostly to himself. But it was different with Hattie and especially Andrew.

“T-thank you for… for everything. For lack of a better word,” Norman chuckled, his smile slightly weak. His entire body felt drained at this point. Physically and mentally, even though he had only been awake for,  _ maybe, _ a couple hours. Adjusting his hold on Andrew's hand rather than his wrist, he walked beside him back to the nest, with barely any distance between their bodies.

Norman locked the door behind him out of habit, but he figured that Hattie would understand the importance of his nest. As soon as the door was locked, he turned back to Andrew, his shoulders sagging. His eyes were tired, and he pressed his face into Andrew's shoulder, even when they were feet away from the nest.

The Omega curled his arms around Andrew's waist, his fingers tangling into his shirt, and he let out a shaky sigh.

“We should… talk about this stuff. Uh, what we want to do, or need to do, I guess,” he murmured, his voice muffled in Andrew's chest. His face was still wet with tears, which he so nicely wiped off using Andrew's shirt. What Norman really wanted to do was strip down, curl into the blankets, and just fall asleep in Andrew's arms. But they still had numerous issues to fix.

Rubbing his hands up and down Norman’s back, Andrew sighed deeply. “Maybe we can put that off until morning, hmm?” he said, curling his fingers and scratching his nails lightly over the nape of Norman’s neck. “It’s been a long day. We could use the rest.”

“I’ve only been awake for two fucking hours,” Norman muttered to himself, a faint blush on his cheeks from his own wish to go back to sleep. It was maybe seven or eight at night, but knowing that the nest was only a foot away, and it would be warmed with electric blankets and his favorite blankets only made him want to curl up and never wake again. Yet he still didn't make a move to separate his body from Andrew's. 

Andrew shrugged. “You’ve had a rough day. You deserve to laze around and cuddle with me.” Andrew ducked his head, and nuzzled his face into the crook of Norman’s neck, inhaling deeply. “You’re tired, I can smell it.” Andrew grinned into Norman’s neck. “Plus, I feel like I’ve not gotten enough cuddling in the last few days. We’ve been too busy. I’m going into withdrawal.”

A snort came from Norman, his shoulders shaking in light chuckles. “Bullshit, you can't smell that shit.”

“Who says I can’t smell it?” Andrew smiled, burrowing his face in tighter, and taking in long breaths. “I can smell everything. You had a chocolate bar at breakfast, even though you tried to hide it from me.” He inhaled again. “You have a weakness for Britney Spears songs. Why, Norman, I never would have guessed.” Another long inhale. “Sometimes late at night you get up and drink pickle juice from the jar in the refrigerator. I’m absolutely shocked!”

Norman believed the first one. But that could have just been coincidence. After all, he had chocolate every day. But the second had him blushing, and the third had him swatting at Andrew's head and pushing him away. “Fuck you, and superior Alpha nose. Get the fuck in the nest before I drench you in pickle juice myself and kick your ass out.”

Lifting his head, he couldn't help but press a soft kiss to Andrew's cheek. His eyes were warm, a bit of the looming darkness temporarily pushed away. Taking a step back towards the nest, grasping onto Andrew's hand to pull him in.

Tripping over a sweatshirt that had made its way outside the walls of the nest, Andrew somehow managed to tuck and roll into the pile of blankets in a semi graceful fashion. “Shit,” he laughed, his head thumping back into the piles of blankets Norman had lined the nest with. “You didn’t have your cell phone out recording that, did you? No one will ever believe me.”

Norman was laughing outside the nest, reaching down and grabbing the sweatshirt, then tossing it at Andrew's face. “Don't get too full of yourself, dick, I'd give it a seven at best.” Stepping over the wooden beam that lined the walls, all except for the opening Andrew somehow managed to perfectly tumble into, he plopped down onto the blankets.

“A seven?” Andrew gasped, and placed his hand over his heart before closing his eyes. Bringing his other hand up, he wiped away an imaginary tear, and whispered, “You wound me.” He managed to keep the stricken expression on his face for all of ten seconds before he slit open one eye and looked up at Norman, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Buy any of that?”

“Nope.” A full grin was on Norman's face, and he leaned down and kissed Andrew on the lips. Laying himself down properly beside Andrew, Norman sighed loudly and rested his head onto Andrew’s chest. Nuzzling softly, he let out a purr.

Wrapping his arms around Norman, Andrew pressed a kiss onto the crown of his head. “I uh…” Swallowing hard, he tightened his arms briefly before moving his mouth down to nip at the shell of Norman’s ear. He took a deep breath, and let it out, a garbled string of syllables falling from his lips as he did. “SoI’mprettysureIloveyoujustthoughtyoushouldknow.”

Now, he wasn't really sure what he was supposed to think. He could have maybe strung together some thought from what Andrew tried to tell him, but… Was that really what he said? “Uh… Could you… repeat that for me?” Norman muttered, lifting up his head from Andrew's chest, his brows furrowed.

Andrew tucked his head into the crook of Norman’s neck and mumbled something into his flesh.

“Can't hear nothin' when you're in my neck.” Norman rolled his eyes and sat himself up, moving off of Andrew's chest completely before grasping at his shirt and pulling it up over his head. He tossed it to the side with a sigh, watching it land outside the nest. “Care to try again, Andy?”

His face flaming red, Andrew lifted his hands and lay them on his burning cheeks. “I don’t know if I can.” He glanced over and Norman, and sighed. “You’re sure you didn’t hear me the first time?” he asked, cheeks reddening even further.

Tilting his head to the side, he frowned just slightly. “It's… Nothing bad, right? You said that I… I should know.” Now kneeling down beside Andrew, he glanced to the door to make sure that it was locked. “D-Did someone tell you something?”

Letting out another deep sigh, Andrew took his hands away from his face and sat up. He ran a finger across Norman’s jaw, and up the side of his face, brushing at the small wisps of hair that lay on his forehead. “I said,” Andrew whispered, tracing his thumb across the almost invisible scar near Norman’s eye, “That I love you. And I thought you should know.”

There were a few moments where Norman seemed to be frozen. His breath paused in his throat before he let it out in a sigh. “Don’t fucking scare me,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Fucking took you long enough. Was gonna end up going Alpha on you and saying it first.”

Andrew huffed, and fell back into the pile of blankets. “Well, if I’d known this was going to be the reaction I’d have said it sooner,” he said sarcastically, frowning up at Norman.

Norman’s first response was a shrug, only to frown at Andrew's frown. With another tilt of the head, he leaned down and laid himself across Andrew's body, placing his chin on his chest. “Shit, Andy, I'm not good at words either,” he muttered, a soft rumble in his throat that pressed against Andrew's chest.

“But… You know that I… I love you, too. Right? You gotta.”

His arms coming up around Norman’s waist, Andrew nodded, his chin brushing against Norman’s choppy hair. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I knew that.”

“And don't forget that shit, either,” Norman huffed, grasping onto the blankets and pulling them up to cover himself, while he acted much like a blanket to Andrew. “Good talk? Got that all figured out? Can we go to sleep now?”

Andrew scoffed, but tightened his arms around Norman anyway. “See if I pour my heart out to you again.” He tilted his head away, and tried to catch Norman’s eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t have the urge to shed even  _ one  _ tear? Just one?”

Groaning, Norman rolled onto his back, somehow still managing to lay on top of Andrew. He swatted at Andrew’s cheek much like an annoyed feline, and smirked. “You just hold on. I'll get so fucking gushy over you, you'll drown.”

Settling his hands on Norman’s hips, Andrew squeezed gently. “You’ll throw me a life preserver, won’t you? I’ll be fine.”

Shivering at the sensation of his warm hands on his hips, Norman relented with a purr. Pulling himself up just slightly, he tucked his head beneath Andrew's chin. “Mhm, you'll be fine. Now fucking sleep. I'm tired.”

“Night, buttercup,” Andrew chuckled softly, before letting out a long sigh and closing his eyes. 

“Fucking farmboy.”


	23. Tell me You're Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day three, and Norman knows that he needed to tell someone. Talk to someone. Anything to pull him out of his grief. His pack offers a hand, and he takes it. Mostly.

Of all the things Andrew would want to be woken up by, almost getting his boot thrown at his head was not on the list. 

“Fucking get up!” Norman yelped as Andrew jolted awake. He was standing in the doorway of their nest, his blue eyes were wide, and he was currently frantically jumping into a pair of worn out jeans.

Andrew bolted upright, blinking his eyes rapidly, and knuckling the sleep out of the corners. “What? What happened? Is something on fire? Did you try to cook? Where is the fire extinguisher?”

“No, you idiot!” Norman groaned loudly, having been about ready to throw the other boot at Andrew. “We're late! Like so fucking late! My alarm didn't go off! Shit, they're gonna kill us!” Norman continued his rambling as he finally properly put on his jeans, and reached out for his belt.

“They’re gonna start making us run laps and shit for being late!”

Andrew’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes went half lidded. Dropping slowly down into the pile of blankets again, he looked over his shoulder at Norman. “We’re done, Norman. Frank says we're free to go.”

Reaching out a hand, Andrew beckoned him closer. “Come back to bed, please. It’s cold in here without you.”

Norman's fingers paused on his belt, having been just about to tighten it by another loop. His eyes narrowed, and the gears in his head clinked together slowly.

“We’re done? Like… Like wrapped? Season’s done?” he murmured softly, the tenseness in his body only just starting to ease. “I-if they're worried, I can film. Don't got a fever or nothing.”

Slitting open one eye, Andrew looked up at Norman and let his arm drop back to the blankets. “Yes. Wrapped.” Andrew burrowed further down into the blankets. “Now get back in here, please.”

Norman deflated where he stood, his head dropping. He hesitated, then started the process of pulling off his belt, then his shirt. Once he slid off his pants, he replaced them with his sweats and cautiously stepped back into the nest

“‘M sorry,” he murmured, picking up the boot and tossing it outside the nest. He wormed his way into the blankets, curling into Andrew's side. “I, uh… There's no wrap party? No, uh- I thought Jon was gonna-”

“We don't need to worry about that. Just relax with me.” Andrew nuzzled into the side of Norman’s neck and sighed happily. “You smell so good in the morning.”

A blush colored Norman’s cheeks, followed by a few shy mumbles. He curled closer to Andrew all the same, adjusting a pillow or two beneath his head to rest more comfortably. “Fucking Alpha nose. Not fair.”

“No more talking,” Andrew mumbled, lifting a finger to place it across Norman’s lips. “Sleepy time.”

Norman's reply was a sharp snort, followed by snickers. “Such a fucking pup,” he huffed under his breath, closing his eyes and moving an arm to curl around Andrew's shoulders and draw him closer.

“Pot. I’m kettle. Pleased to meet you.”

“Oh my  _ God.” _

Andrew smirked, but didn’t bother to open his eyes. “I don’t hear you saying I’m  _ wrong.” _

A hand lightly smacked against Andrew's chest. “Fuck you,” Norman countered, his cheeks growing bright red.

Andrew’s smug expression only strengthened. “Still don’t hear you saying I’m wrong.”

Letting out a long groan, Norman reached back and grabbed a pillow, shoving it into Andrew's face. “Fucking sleepy time, Andrew! Go the fuck to sleep!”

Andrew was silent for a few moments, and then he frowned. “I don’t think I can. You woke me up, and destroyed my sleepiness.”

“For the love of God!” Norman rolled over, now pressing the pillow against his own face. He let out a long, exasperated moan that trailed on for much too long, only to toss the pillow back at Andrew. “Fine. Don't sleep. Now I can't either.”

Placing a line of kisses along Norman’s jaw, Andrew smiled. “I can make biscuits and gravy.”

His eyes fluttering open to look back at Andrew, they nearly glowed. “...Please?” Norman whined, trying to compact himself down into a smaller size, like it would gain him sympathy. 

Dropping one more kiss on the tip of Norman’s nose, Andrew rolled over and stretched, letting out a long groan. Getting to his feet, he padded out of the room, and looked back at Norman. “Half an hour. I’ll call you when it’s done if you want to try and sleep some more.”

Eyes lighting up, Norman nodded quickly. He already was shifting into Andrew's spot, curling up within the warmth that the Alpha had left behind. He pulled a pillow against his chest, nuzzling into it.

The Omega sucked in a deep breath of Andrew's scent, squeezing himself into that one particular area of warmth. He could hear Andrew walking away, but he already had closed his eyes and attempted to make his mind go blank. Nothing else mattered.

Just sleep.

Sleep and biscuits. Sweet, sweet biscuits.

The thought of fluffy delights sent straight from heaven must have been enough to lull him to sleep, as the next moment he remembered, there was a soft prodding against his shoulder. 

“How you can get so deeply asleep so easily, I’ll never understand,” Andrew laughed, poking at Norman’s shoulder again. “Breakfast is ready. Come and eat before it gets cold.”

“Ah, shit…” Norman grumbled into his pillow, pressing it against his face for another moment. Finally relenting to Andrew’s prodding, he tossed the pillow aside and started the long process of untangling himself from his blankets. Of course he somehow managed to completely tie himself up.

With a loud groan, he pulled himself free, shaking off the remnants of the blankets and random articles of clothing. Letting out a yawn, Norman gradually got to his feet.

“I put your giant coffee mug on the counter. Coffee is ready, too.” Andrew brushed his hand across Norman’s messy hair, and chuckled. “It looks like you need it.”

With the smallest blush on his cheeks, Norman dipped his head and bumped his shoulder into Andrew’s. “You’re a goddamn nightmare without coffee,” he mumbled, a smirk on his face. Shoving his hands into his sweats pockets, he looked back to the nest then blinked.

“Ah, shit,” he repeated, this time with a level of unease. Reaching down, Norman plucked his phone out from where it had been buried under blankets. “I turned it off yesterday. But I don't wanna worry Ming,” he added, looking up at Andrew again. “Has he… Has Ming or Helena called? Ming’s got your number.”

“I talked to Jeffrey yesterday. He said he’d call Helena and let her know what’s going on.” Andrew glanced at the still black screen of Norman’s phone. “Though, you should prepare yourself for a barrage of texts from multiple people if what Jeffrey said is any indication.”

For the third time in a row, another ‘Ah shit’ left Norman’s lips, and he hung his head. The first thing he was about to ask was what Andrew told him. But… That conversation wouldn't have been easy. Not with his history with Jeffrey, even if Andrew didn't fully know. 

“Thanks for talking to him,” Norman murmured, staring down at his phone before turning it on. He started walking out of the room and towards the kitchen, head still down and watching as his phone slowly powered up.

Andrew followed Norman to the kitchen, putting a hand on his back to steer him when he would’ve run into the couch due to still staring at his phone. “Maybe put your phone aside, and deal with it after breakfast?”

Not even waiting, Norman tossed his phone onto said couch just as the screen lit up with his background picture of himself and Andrew. Though just as he turned towards the table and got a good look at the food, something that made his eyes light up, he winced at the vibrations buzzing from his phone. Then another. Another still.

And still more.

“Ignore it,” Andrew said, picking up two plates from the counter and setting them on the table. “Eat. I’ll get your coffee.”

Moments later Norman’s favorite mug was put in front of him, steam wafting up from the sweet, sweet liquid inside. “I still don’t know why this is your favorite,” Andrew said, a puzzled look on his face. “You don’t have a Hello Kitty fetish, do you?”

Norman let out a dramatic gasp, looking up at Andrew with the picture of innocence. “I have no idea what you're talking about!” he huffed, swiping away the mug to take a long drink, of course nearly gagging at the intense heat. “Was a gift from Ming.”

More like a running gag from Jeffrey that Mingus got roped into, but either way.

Andrew’s eyes softened, and he nodded. “You love him a lot, don’t you.”

“More than almost anything,” Norman hummed softly, settling down into his chair and stretching. “Don't know what I would’a done without him, if I had, uh...” He trailed off, ducking his head down and not wishing to complete that sentence. 

“It's still goin,” Norman murmured, motioning with one hand towards the phone on the couch still loudly vibrating.

“Before you wade into text hell…” Andrew trailed off, and raised a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “When I spoke to Jeffrey he was pretty adamant that you needed to go visit them. I told him I'd ask. So. I'm asking. Do you want to go spend some time up there?”

With a frown, he lifted up the coffee mug and took another drink from it, this time more prepared for the heat. Staring down at the table while he thought, he sighed. “I wanna see Mingus. He should be home by now,” he said, then letting out another sigh.

“If I go down there and don't see Jeffrey, or Hilarie,” he said, then his voice tapered off. Glancing back up at Andrew from the corner of his eyes, he asked, “You told them what happened? You know if anyone else knows?”

Andrew nodded. “I told Jeff and Hilarie. And I asked him to let Helena know, so Mingus wouldn't freak out if he didn't talk to you for a few days.” Looking uncertain, Andrew bit his lip and looked over at Norman. “That's okay, I hope. I don't want to overstep.”

“Nah, had to happen eventually. Probably better it came from you.” Pushing a bit of biscuit through the gravy, he bit into it and let out a soft hum of approval, which was disrupted by another loud buzzing. Groaning, he slumped in his chair. “I'm gonna drown that fucking thing!”

“A lot of them are probably from Jeffrey.” Huffing out a laugh Andrew smiled. “He texted me about 10 separate times, and he doesn't even  _ like _ me. You've probably got triple that amount.”

Getting up from his seat a few minutes later, Andrew collected his empty plate and made his way over to Norman. Gesturing at Normans plate and receiving a nod, he grabbed that one, too. He leaned over and kissed the top of Norman's head before walking toward the kitchen. “Jeffrey and I may not have gotten off to the greatest start, but I can tell he's a good man. He cares about you a lot.”

Shit. Jeffrey. Why did it take Norman so long to think about him? What was he going to say to Jeffrey? He didn't want  _ that  _ to happen again. Norman barely got through it the first time.

Norman mumbled softly under his breath, closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath to gather some courage. Finally, he stood up from his chair. “You still need to meet Mingus. We're doing that first,” he said, glancing over his shoulder and giving Andrew a small smile. He swiped the phone off the couch after the vibrations finally stopped, swallowed, then started to scroll.

Jeffrey, Jeffrey, Jon, Jeffrey, Hilarie, Helena, Jeffrey, Hilarie… It just kept going on and on and the list only got longer with every scroll.

Andrew walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands off onto a dish towel. He leaned up against the doorjamb, stuffing the damp towel into his pocket. “I had a hunch you'd want to see your son. I may have possibly already booked us a flight.”

Norman looked up from his phone immediately, eyes wide, his eyes practically lighting up. “When?!” he asked, his pitch spiking up with enthusiasm.

“In three days. We need to be at the airport by 7am.” Andrew hooked a finger into the loop of his jeans. “Flight leaves at 9:15. Nonstop to LaGuardia.”

Norman just about bounced off the floor, instead plopping down onto the couch with a hiss of ‘yes.’ “He's gonna fucking love you. I don't care what Helena thinks. She can shove it up her ass for all I care,” he chirped, grinning wider before that abruptly changed when he looked back at the phone. Letting out a long sigh, he sank into the cushions. “I'm gonna have to make some calls, aren't I.”

Grimacing in sympathy, Andrew nodded. “ While you do that, I'm going to go have a bath. Then I've got some calls of my own to make.” He ran his fingers through his hair and winced a bit. “I was supposed to fly back to London for a few days. Mum isn't going to be happy, but this is just more important.” 

“Shit…” Norman muttered, further sinking into the couch and curling a loose blanket around his body. Norman had forgotten about Andrew's plans to go back home after filming was finished. Now he was dragging Andrew around on a leash. “We can, uh, try to go up there later. Or if you just wanna go.” Norman was already starting to type, and with how long it was taking, it had to be almost novel length. He was trying to avoid as many calls as he could. 

Andrew walked over to the couch and knelt down in front of Norman. “You are the most important person in my life,” he said, reaching a hand out and tilting Norman's head up, so their eyes would meet. “And my mother will forgive me anything when I tell her about Mingus. A grandchild to spoil? She'll be in heaven.”

There was a tinge of a blush on his face, followed by an awkward chuckle. “Oh, yeah… she's gonna need to meet him, too. Mingus is gonna be spoiled absolutely rotten,” Norman said with a grin, leaning over and pressing his lips to Andrew's.

“She'll love him. And you.” Andrew leaned in and lightly kissed Norman on the cheek, then moved on to his lips. “I'll even ask her to bring you some proper chocolate,” he said, smirking. “None of that stuff you Americans make.”

Norman pressed a hand to his chest, mock hurt crossing his face. “Are you  _ offending  _ my life support? I live off of this! If she gets me hooked on your Brit version, she's gonna need to be ready for me to bang on her door for more.”

“She'll send you care packages if you bribe her with chocolate covered cherries.” Andrew thought for a moment, and then added, “And peanut butter fudge. She's a sucker for that.”

“Done. I love her already.” Norman gave a cheeky grin before he glanced down to his phone. He hesitated, then hit send. Then, he copied the message that was at least a few paragraphs long, and pulled open his contacts. Thus started him scrolling through people, popping in the message, sending it off, rinse repeat.

“How many friends do you have?” Andrew asked, his mouth dropping open when Norman continued to copy and paste. “I don’t think I even  _ know _ that many people.”

“Uh,” Norman stuttered, his eyes remaining on the screen. “Um, some guys in Vancouver. Uh, my agent. Sending it to Helena just in case. A few guys from a few films back. Mostly work buddies. They all freaked the fuck out probably because Jeffrey acted strange as shit,” Norman rambled, slightly uncomfortable with how many people he was telling. Maybe he shouldn't tell that many people.

Scrolling back up, Norman started to delete some of the messages. He wasn't ready to tell  _ everyone.  _

Standing up, Andrew lightly patted the top of Norman’s head, and headed for the bathroom. “I’m going to have a soak. Feel free to join me once you’ve finished with the texting.”

“Hun, you have no idea how much I wanna, but Doctor’s orders-” He was cut off by the phone starting to vibrate in his hands, the screen turning blank except for a few words:

_ Incoming call: _

_ Mishapocalypse _

“I think I'm gonna be stuck here for a while.”

“Do what you need to do, buttercup. I’m going to soak.” Andrew smiled brightly at Norman before turning around and heading to the bathroom, and even though Andrew’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, Norman nodded, and turned back to the still ringing phone.

As the Omega listened to Andrew walk away, Norman swallowed then pressed the green button. He held the phone up to his ear, sucked in a deep breath, then started in a low murmur.

“Hey, Mish. How's Vicki.”

_ “Vicki is fine, but I’m pretty sure you know I didn’t call to talk about her.” _

Glancing over his shoulder, he caught a soft smile from Andrew just as he walked into the bathroom, but could see the lingering ache. Both knew how these conversations were going to go.

“Yeah. I know. It, uh. Did… Did Jeffrey tell you at all or… was this the first time you heard?”

_ “Hilarie called Vicki. I figured since you texted me, you were up. Thought I’d call and check on you. Invite you out to stay with us for a little while. Washington is beautiful this time of year.” _

Norman winced, curling into the blanket that little bit more. Misha’s voice was unusually soft, like he was trying his best to not upset Norman. His mouth went dry, but Norman finally cleared his throat. “I… I'm gonna go up and see Ming. I don't… I'm not gonna do good around…” Around a pregnant pack member counting down the days to the birth of their first son, after waiting a near decade to have their child.

_ “I figured. Vicki said you’d say no, but I wanted to offer. You know you’re like family to us, right? And if you need anything, all you have to do is ask.” _

Already the tears were stinging in his eyes, but Norman wiped them away before they could fall. It was going to be a long day if he started breaking down so soon. “Yeah, I know. I'll be up there later, probably after lil’ West comes. He's gonna be fucking cute.”

_ “Only if he looks like Vicki,”  _ Misha laughed, excitement clear in his voice. Warmth flooded his voice again.  _ “I went out the other day and bought him a little mini trench coat. I can’t wait to put it on him.” _

“That's fucking  _ adorable. _ Like, illegal amounts of cute. I need pictures. You owe me a shitton of pictures,” Norman huffed, forcing up as much excitement as he could. Maybe later he'd be able to get more excited. After all, their pack was growing. It should be celebrated.

After clearing his throat again, Norman added, “I, uh, need to have you meet Andy. Probably not when you go fucking Alpha around West, but eventually.”

Misha laughed, and Norman could hear the grin in his voice.  _ “Can’t wait to meet the guy who managed to pry you away from, in your own words, ‘Your boys’. He’s gotta be something special.” _

The blush was thick on his face as he sank into the couch, wheezing out a soft laugh. It was no secret that Norman was the mother hen over the  _ Supernatural  _ pack, with Jeffrey assuming the Alpha role, much to the disgust of Jensen. Misha didn’t really care. He was the most atypical Alpha Norman had ever met. “He is. Really is. It fucking pissed me off at first. Kinda worked out like with Jensen.”

_ “Ahhh, hatefucking. I’ve seen one of his movies. I’d watch a hatefucking with him in the middle of it. Rawr.” _

“You fucking whore!” Norman laughed, breaking out into a wide grin. He had forgotten for a moment just who he had been talking to, but… Misha was Misha. Plus, it wasn't like Norman was much different. At times. “I'm gonna tell Vi- ah, shit, that's not gonna help.”

_ “Ha! No it won’t! She’d be watching right along with me!”  _ The smugness lacing Misha’s voice couldn’t be missed.  _ “Watching would set her off, then she’d set me off, then it’d just be a bunch of naked naked all over the place. Dangly bits everywhere!” _

“Jesus Christ, do you have an off-switch?!” he groaned, pulling a pillow over his face to try to hide his blush. “Do you remember what happened last time? Jensen got Alpha as fuck, then Jeffrey, and we just watched them from the corner.”

_ “I seem to recall doing a little more than just watching, Normikins. You’ve got amazing breath control.” _

Gasping softly and feeling his face explode with heat, Norman looked over his shoulder to make sure Andrew was not listening. “This is  _ not  _ turning into a fucking phone sex call. No, I refuse,” Norman grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow he’d thrown back over his face. “Andy would rip out your throat. Think our playdates may be over.”

_ “Hmmm, I guess I’ll just have to cherish my memories, won’t I?" _

“I dunno. Might be kinda hot having all the Alphas fight. Me and the girls could just place our bets. I think you'd outsmart them but Jeffrey and Jared got muscle. Andy's a slippery fucker, though.”

_ “Dirty fighter? Like Jensen?” _

“Andy almost tore out a guys throat. I ain't lying about that. So it's probably a health hazard letting him play.” Sighing, he slipped down into the couch and tossed off the pillow and watched it roll on the ground. A beep chimed, followed by a soft vibration.

“Shit…” Grumbling, he pulled the phone away and looked at the notification.

_ Incoming call: _

_ Squirrel _

“Speak of the devil. I got Jensen trying to call me.”

_ “I’ll let you go. Call if you need to, alright?” _

“Promise. Always do. Love ya, Mish. Tell Vicki not to lose any sleep over me. You guys won't be getting much once West comes anyway.”

_ “Love you back, Norm. Take care of yourself.” _

“Will do.” He pulled the phone away and pressed the red button on the screen. He hesitated a bit, but eventually relented and pressed the green button to answer. This was going to be harder than with Misha. He wasn't around… Last time. Biting back another sigh, Norman moved the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Je-"

The sound of a struggle was the only thing Norman heard for a moment. Muffled grunts, and growls, interspersed with a curse here and there. Finally, after listening for a minute or so, there was a loud thump, and he heard Jensen’s voice yell out,  _ “Keep your hands off my phone, Moose! Just because yours isn’t charged doesn’t mean you get to steal mine!” _

Some more shuffling noises, then an out of breath Jensen spoke.  _ “Norman? You there?” _

“Uh, yeah? Been here. You done squabbling with your brother?” Norman grunted, closing his eyes and pinching the brim of his nose. Shit, now he was starting to sound like Andrew.

Jensen snorted.  _ “More like my child. Jared is the biggest two year old I’ve ever met.”  _ Jensen moved the phone away from his mouth for a second to talk to Jared.  _ “Yes, I am talking about you. Lock it up!” _

“Can we not-" Norman broke off in a loud groan, tilting his head back into the cushions. God damn it, Jensen. He tapped his thumb against the screen, and was dangerously close to hitting that candy red button.

_ “Don’t you dare hang up! I just got your text. We’ve been out on the lake for the past few days, so reception is shitty. Are you okay? Shit, fine, Jared,  _ fine! _ I’ll put it on speaker!” _

After some more struggling and muttering, he heard a click and a change in the volume.

_ “Okay, we’re both here now,”  _ Jensen sighed.

_ “Norman!”  _ Jared shouted, worry clear in his tone.  _ “Are you okay?” _

The last thing Norman thought he would be was irritated. Almost  _ angry  _ in a way. Frustrated may be the right word. “Do I fucking sound okay?,” he muttered, curling his fingers into his blanket. How his mood swung so suddenly was beyond him, but hearing them bickering… He just wanted some peace. 

“Of course I'm fucking not,” he growled, hanging his head. He shouldn't be acting like that, Norman knew it, but he couldn't stop himself.

_ “Shit, I know you’re not okay,” _ Jensen sighed.  _ “We’re worried about you, man. Just tell us what’s going on. You have someone there to take care of you? Make sure you’re eating and all that shit?” _

“‘Course I do. I don't get that fucking bad,” he grunted in response. Another lie that he tried to swallow back down.

Jared’s voice sounded over the line.  _ “Uh huh, sure. We are pretty familiar with you, Norman. We know how you react to shit like this.” _

“Oh,  _ I'm  _ sorry,” Norman snapped, faster than he could control his own words. He could feel another buzz against his cheek. Text. “Ex- _ fucking _ -scuse me I ain't  _ reacting  _ well.”

_ “Don’t be like that, man,”  _ Jensen said, and Norman knew he was pacing back and forth. He always did when something stressed him out.  _ “We care about you, okay? Just want to make sure your new guy is doing right by you.” _

“And why wouldn't he? Not my first fucking time dealing with this, I'm a fucking  _ pro  _ at this point!” Norman's voice rose, his teeth clicking together as he spat the words. He sat up on the couch, grabbing the blanket and starting to pull it off of himself. “No, I got it handled! Take my temperature, got that taken care of! Went to the fucking doctor, check! Can't take a bath with Andy, can't go back to work, can't do  _ shit,  _ but that's cool! No, I don't need to do any of that shit! I got it covered head to toe, like a  _ fucking  _ pro.”

Norman could hear Jensen taking several deep breaths on the other end of the phone. After a long minute, he spoke again. “ _ I understand you’re angry and hurting right now, Norman, but you’re taking it out on the wrong person. Has there  _ ever _ been a time when I wasn’t there if you needed me? I’ve dropped everything with zero notice to help you when you needed me. I took the first flight out. Left the goddamn set in the middle of a scene, for fuck’s sake. And Jared drove for fucking  _ hours. _ I’m not there right now, so I’m doing the only thing I can do, and as soon as I get off the phone, I might just buy another plane ticket. And after I hug the shit out of you, I’m gonna beat your ass for treating me like I don’t give a fuck.” _

“I don't-” Norman’s breathing shook for a moment, and he sucked it in through his teeth. The second or third day was always the worst. After that numbness faded. His teeth still clenched together, he finally spoke again. “I don’t… I just…”

Slowly, Norman let his shaking body sit back down onto the couch, and he immediately curled in on himself. “I-I just want to go home.” His thoughts were swirling wildly inside his head, and all he could focus on was the plane ride that would take him back to New York. But it was still so far away.

_ “Yeah, I bet you do.”  _ Jensen sighed deeply, and Noorman could picture him pacing back and forth, fingers tugging at his short hair.  _ “I’m gonna put Jared on. I need to go wash the lake off. I stink. Love ya, Norman. Take care of yourself, yeah?” _

“I love you, too, Jen. Uh.” Norman swallowed, pushing his face into a throw pillow. “I'm… sorry I freaked the fuck out. Don't know where that came from. Just… stuff. I didn't- I thought I'd never…”

_ “Don’t worry about it, Norm. I’m used to you being difficult. What was the phrase you used? Vehemently passionate?” _

A soft huff slipped from him. “Better than quirky. I hate that fucking word.”

_ “Yeah, yeah,”  _ Jensen huffed, and Norman was no longer sure if Jensen was upset or angry with him. When Norman was about to ask, however, Jensen spoke again.  _ “Here’s Jared.” _

Norman heard the phone moving around, and then Jared was talking, barely pausing to take a breath, and yelling. Like Norman somehow couldn't hear him.  _ “Norman! Jensen wouldn’t let me have the phone, and as soon as I saw that text I was so worried, and I left my charger at home, so I couldn’t charge my phone-” _

“Jesus, Jared, don't make me make you get Jensen back!” Norman groaned, closing his eyes and starting to massage his temple with his other hand. “I was already an ass to him. Don't make me snap at you, too.”

_ “Sorry,”  _ Jared said sheepishly.  _ “Just tell me you’re… well, I know you’re not okay, so just tell me you’re taking care of yourself. That Andrew is taking care of you.” _

He opened his mouth to snap that he didn't need to be taken care of, then realized that while he could fight with Jensen and the other man could calm the situation, he did not want to end up kicking the puppy that was Jared. “He’s taking care of me,” he murmured. “He… he fucking cooks like it's what he was born to do. Fuck acting. Made me fucking biscuits and gravy and all that shit.”

_ “Dude. Biscuits and gravy? I have to meet him. Can he make fried chicken? What about cornbread? Mac and cheese?” _

“Holy shit, you gotta meet his neighbor. She is  _ the  _ southern granny. Like. I almost orgasmed when she made us something to eat yesterday. And she's fucking teaching him!”

Jared groaned.  _ “Old southern grannies are amazing! You guys are doing another season, right? When you start filming again, I need to come down and meet her.” _

“They booked me, so I think so? I guess I'll be down here anyway?” Norman furrowed his brow with realization that he and Andrew had been so focused on the pregnancy that they had yet to go over  _ literally _ anything else. Where they would live. Would they stay here? Would Andrew want to go back to London? Would they take Mingus with them? What the hell were they doing?

Letting out a long sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that they really needed to sit down and talk about all this… Stuff. “Shit. This literally couldn't have happened at a worse time.” It sounded ridiculous to say out loud. 

_ “Tends to happen that way, man. That’s the way life goes.” _

“Yeah. I know.” Norman turned quiet, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. After a few moments, he sucked in another breath. “I have no fucking idea what we're doing. Being away from home... Hell, I don't even know which place is home now. I've never done this shit. Never even really  _ wanted _ to do the mating thing. But I think I want it with him. ”

_ “Talk to Andrew. You’ll work it out. Gen and I did. Took some discussion, and a little bit of time, but we did.” _

Norman wanted to say that it wasn't quite that easy. That they, in all reality, barely knew each other. There had been no time to actually slow down, even go out on a damn date. Just rushing and rushing, preparing… “It's just… It's a lot. And throwing  _ this  _ on the pile…”

_ “It is a lot,” _ Jared agreed.  _ “But it’s worth all the work in the end. I know you. You wouldn’t be thinking about mating him if you didn’t feel it. Don’t overthink everything, huh? Decide what you want to do together, and remember, everything is just a plane ride away.” _

It was true, and Jared always was the one to point out the fact that all of them were there for him. Jared, Jensen, Misha, Jeffrey… Mingus. And of course Eye in the Dark. Which reminded him that he missed his cat horribly. But what Jared was also correct in saying that he wouldn't be thinking about mating Andrew if it wasn't right.

He and Jeffrey never mated and they had been partners for  _ years.  _ Even with Helena, who had sired his son, they’d never even considered it. But with Andrew… it was instinctual. A need that was getting more and more insistent every day. He ran his fingertips over the place Andrew would have to bite to cement their bond, just barely holding down a shiver.

“Can you stop being fucking right all the time? I can't even get mad at you two anymore without you guys just truth-bombing me.” Was that even a word? Probably not. It was now, though. 

Jared giggled. Literally giggled. Like a little girl.  _ “You love me,”  _ he sang, his voice full of barely suppressed humor.  _ “You love Jensen, you love Misha, but most of all you love meeeee!” _

“Oh fuck off!” Norman scoffed, but it couldn't overpower the laughs that managed to leak out of him. It took a few moments to calm back down again, even when he truly didn't want to. His phone was still buzzing and he was still getting texts. But right now he didn't care.

Clearing his throat, he spoke again. “Tell Jensen I'm sorry. I didn't mean to flip out. I just need some time,” he said, his voice growing soft again.

_ “Take all the time you need. Let us know when you’re up for a visit. We’ll bring Gen and Danneel, too. Gotta meet your new man, make sure he’s good enough for you.” _

“I'm damn sure I won the lottery,” Norman chuckled, sitting up on the couch. Andrew had taken his towel wrapped self back to the bedroom a few minutes before, and then probably headed into his office. 

Another buzz sounded in his ear, and he realized that he may as well turn off his phone again. He’d let the important people know what was going on. Everyone else could wait.

Jared spoke softly into the phone, his words full of sincerity.  _ “I’m pretty sure you got that backwards, Norman. He’s the one that got lucky.” _

Out of everything that he had heard from the three men he’d just talked to,  _ that  _ had come the closest to making him cry. But it wasn't the same kind of crying that he had been doing plenty of lately. Just… some odd sense of relief. That somehow, everything was going to be alright. And maybe he was worth having everything be alright. 

“God damn it, Jared, what the hell did I just say,” Norman said, his voice tight.

_ “Uh… Fuck off?” _

“God d- No, dammit. I can't handle you three. Gonna get diabetes from you guys.”

_ “God forbid. You wouldn’t be able to eat chocolate anymore. I think you’d just go ahead and keel over if that ever happened.” _

“Nah, I'd keep eating it, and just have an IV bag of insulin on me at all times.” Norman let out a soft chuckle that ended in a long sigh. “But seriously. Love you guys. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

_ “We love you, too, Norm. Now go and cuddle up to your Alpha. I can tell you want to. Call if you need us.”  _ Jared laughed.  _ “Hell, call if you don’t. Just call, okay?” _

“I will, I swear on my stash of Hershey’s. Talk to you later.” After Jared chirped a final goodbye, Norman moved the phone from his cheek and pressed the red button. He took a quick look through the texts. 

Some of them were from their cast members. Melissa, Steven, Jon… Rooker, Sarah… A lump rolled up into his throat as he stared down at one name. Jeffrey.

With a shaking thumb, he finally tapped against the message.

_ Sugar: let me know you're okay _

_ Sugar: it's okay if you're not _

_ Sugar: just talk to me _

_ Sugar: love you bubba _

_ Sugar: you know that right _

_ Sugar: just send a text or something, k? _

_ Sugar: please _

_ Sugar: talk to me _

His vision flooded with tears, and the ache was back. He knew those words. When Jeffrey was pounding his fist against the door, begging Norman to let him in, that it wasn't over, that they could try again…

Norman didn't answer him that time. Should he this time?

He stared at the messages over and over, and just as he was going to turn off his phone, another message.

_ Sugar: I told you I would always be here for you. Let me help you, please bubba. _


	24. We've Been Here Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talk with Jeffrey Dean Morgan normally is one Norman doesn't dread. This isn't normal, though. And with a history as thick as theirs, Norman knows he's ripping open their stitches one more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that we have been hanging onto this day probably longer than necessary, but there is a reason to our madness. If you haven't guessed it by now, you certainly will by the end of this chapter.

“...Hey.”

Norman's voice immediately choked up, and disobeyed him. This was going to be horrible. He didn't want to talk to Jeffrey, didn't want to think about him… Think about the memories and the pain...

_ “Norman. I know you’re not okay, but are you okay? Is prick taking care of you?” _

“Yeah.” His answer was dry on his tongue, and he tried to find some sort of other topic. How was Gus? Hilarie? Hell, did the mailman still sleep with that whore down the street with the politician husband?

Norman stared down at his feet, absently walking to and from the living room, just letting his feet take him wherever they cared to go. “I'm, uh. I'll get there. No fever, it's…” Shit, too graphic. Don't talk about that. It was too humiliating. Even when he was sure Andrew knew about it, he didn't… No, don't talk about that.

_ “You’re out of the nest, moving around… That’s a good sign, right? It has to be. Last time you didn’t come out of the nest for days.” _

“I didn't fucking wanna.” The edge to his words was so sharp he nearly split his tongue. Before he could even silence himself, the words tumbled free. “Just wanna stick my head in the ground, gut out my  _ fucked up _ insides…”

_ “You can’t talk like that, man. I know what happened with Sophia was messed up, but it-” _

“Don't you fucking  _ start. _ We aren't talking about her. It's fucked up, it happened, it's  _ done.” _

_ “I swear to god, Norm, every time I so much as  _ mention _ her name, you shut me down. I lost her, too, you know.” _

“Oh,  _ I'm  _ sorry,” Norman hissed, his shoulders tensing up and his eyes beginning to burn with gold. “I had her in me for  _ seven _ months, and then had  _ hours  _ of labor to have a de-” His voice choked off, and that sensation was back. That  _ ache. _ It was worse than any physical pain he had ever endured.

Getting hit by that semi, feeling Mingus almost  _ ripping  _ out of his body, his constant headaches… Nothing compared.

Jeffrey sighed into the phone.  _ “I don’t want to fight with you, Norm. I’m sorry I brought it up, but sometimes I think you forget that she was mine, too.” _

“Just-” Sucking in a deep breath, Norman finally forced himself to the couch again. This was something Norman never knew how to handle. Loss was something that he could never shake. Maybe it's why he clung so hard to the people he cared about.

“I don't forget… I couldn't forget. I love you, Sugar, but I just can't think of this right now.” Norman closed his eyes and took in another breath. “I just keep thinking about what the docs said before they saved Ming. When I… I begged them to not take it out. To try to save whatever was left. They told me I’d die ‘cause I was selfish. And sometimes…”

_ “You’re probably the most unselfish person I know, so don’t start with that bullshit. You deserve babies if you want them, Bubba. It’s not selfish to want to have a family. Look at me and Hil. Are we selfish? You know what she’s been going through.” _

Norman winced. Here he was blubbering when he  _ knew  _ that Hilarie had struggled to get pregnant at all. Not to mention the doctors telling her that the chances of carrying to term was few and far between when Jeffrey and Hilarie wanted answers to why she wasn't catching. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “I-I didn't mean to…”

All this conversation was doing was poking open old wounds that had only just started to heal.

Jeffrey’s voice was soft when he replied.  _ “I know. You never would. So, why doesn’t that same standard apply to  _ you.”

“Because-” Shit. Because what? 

_ “Exactly! There is no reason!” _

“Don't start-” Norman cut himself off in a groan. Shit, if there was one thing that Jeffrey was, it was his damn accuracy. Curling himself back into the couch, he pressed his face back into a throw pillow.

“I just… My head is a fucking asshole to me. And you know that. ‘Hey, Norman, great scene tonight! Worked your ass off!’ ‘No, it was shit, just quit.’ Just a goddamn lifetime of poison in my head. And I can't get it to stop.” His breathing got shallow, like he’d taken a punch to the gut, like saying this aloud was a weakness. “Am I crazy? Fucking  _ quirky?” _

_ “Since I don’t feel like getting a punch to the jaw, I would never call you quirky,” _ Jeffrey drawled, humor bleeding through his tone.  _ “I’ll just say you’re too hard on yourself. You give other people a million chances, you should do the same for yourself.” _

Norman let out a long sigh that worked into a groan. Of course Jeffrey would say that. Sappy asshole. “Shit, Sugar. This is the shit that got me into that closet at the bar with you.”

_ “I remember that closet. That was a good closet. Seem to remember having a pretty good time, and then being stared at jealously on the way out.” _

“Couldn't blast their damn music loud enough. Think we had someone beat on the door once, didn't give a fuck.” It was strange, how he had been in the throes of grief moments ago, and now they were talking about the first time they fucked after they both had a bit too much. Maybe that was how life worked. But he couldn't exactly get fucked right now. Not for a little while.

_ “Simpler times. Fucking in closets.”  _ Jeffrey sighed again, and Norman could hear him shifting around. _"S_ __o_ you’re doing okay? As well as you can be?” _

“Yeah. I, uh, talked to the boys. Jensen ripped me a new one, Misha offered sex, and Jared giggled. Normal phone calls all around.” Norman huffed a soft laugh. “Andrew fed me awesome shit, and he said we can head home. So… I'll be back in a few days.”

_ “Good. I’m glad you’re not… Like last time. And I’m glad Andy is there for you. He might not be such a prick, after all.” _

“Nah, he's a prick. Just a well-meaning prick.” Norman chuckled softly and adjusted to lay down properly on the couch. Staring up in the sky, he sighed loudly. There was something he wanted to do. Something he always meant to do.

“Hey, Jeffrey… This is so not fucking appropriate, but-” No, no, this was a bad idea. Bad idea. Abort. Abort. “Uh… How's your dog. Bandit. I miss the fucker.”

_ “He’s a pain in my ass, but he’s cute, so it all balances out. What did you really want to ask?” _

“Um…” Shit. “I, uh… I haven't… seen… been to…” Norman thought about just hanging a noose right there and hang himself to get out of this conversation. The more he thought about it, the more he regretted shutting down that conversation, but he just wasn't…

He wasn't ready to hear what Jeffrey had to say. How he lost Jeffrey’s pup. How it was his fault.

“Just forget I said shit. Please.”

_ “Not happening. Spill.” _

“Shit. Fucker.” Sucking in a deep breath, he finally spilled out. “I wanna see… her. It's a nice spot. It's, uh… Is the tree still there?”

_ “Yeah, it’s still there. Bigger, too. It usually starts to flower around April. You should go see it around then. It’s… It’s beautiful.  Like she was.” _

Norman swallowed back his tears, but they already were leaking down his cheeks. It was such a beautiful spot. And she had been so beautiful, even when she was still so small… But it was so hard to think of her and not think of that… box.

“She was so… dammit. Our lil’ angel.”

Closing his eyes, he tried to clear his head. Try to clear himself. “Did Hil know? You hafta tell her?”

_ “I had to tell her. You don’t keep things like that from someone you love. Just like I’m sure you told Andrew.” _

Oh shit. Norman swallowed as he scanned his mind for some lie. Shit. Shit, shit, shit…! “Didn’t tell him the whole thing. I told him when this all started that my whole track record was shit.” Norman cleared his throat and looked over his shoulder. He thought Andrew went into his office a while ago… Probably making calls.

“I thought… he was gonna… gonna pull what Helena did. It's not damn attractive for a potential mate.”

_ “Dude. Really? Even if I wasn’t fond of the guy-” _

Norman snorted, and Jeffrey chuckled.

_ “Fine. Even if I fucking  _ hated _ the guy, I could tell how into you he was. Everywhere you went, his eyes followed you around. Helena was never like that.” _

“Yeah. She told me what she wanted. I couldn't do it. And it was done.” Norman let out a dry chuckle. “You know how hard it was to get me into heat when we were trying? Dry as a fucking  _ bone _ with her.”

_ “I’m pretty positive you don’t have that problem with Andrew. I don’t want details, but I do have one question. Never tell him I asked, got it?” _

“Ah, shit,” Norman groaned loudly. “Please don't tell me you're gonna ask  _ that. _ Please.”

_ “Oh, come on, he can’t be bigger than me! You wouldn’t care about me asking if he wasn’t. Fuck. I owe Hilarie a hundred bucks, don’t I?” _

“You bet on the size of my boyfriend's dick?! The hell!” Forcing himself to drop his voice, just in case Andrew was listening, he whispered, “It ain't by much. You got girth, he's got length.”

_ “It’s Hilarie’s fault. She’s a  _ “fan” _ of his or some shit. When I called him a dickless asshole she disagreed and it snowballed from there.”  _ Jeffrey was silent for a moment, then continued in a low voice.  _ “Like, how much do I win by? An inch around? Two?” _

“I don't fucking measure his dick! Gotta be going out for a few months to do that shit!” Norman could feel his face exploding with red, and he hoped that Andrew wasn't listening. “It still feels good, isn't that what matters? You both felt awesome. Kay? Argument over?”

_ “You know I’m a little competitive, Bubba. It’s the Alpha in me.” _

“Oh, God, help me…” he groaned to himself, rubbing a hand across his face. “That's all I need. My bf and my bff comparing dicks behind my back. Why don't you get over the enemies bit and just  _ fuck  _ already?”

_ “Ew. That’d be like fucking Jensen. Or Misha. Which, granted I may have done once, but it was still weird. And not something I think is going to be repeated in the future. Misha was just asking for it, and Jensen lost a bet.” _

“...And You didn't invite  _ me?” _ Norman gasped, mock hurt in his voice. “I've been dying to see shit like that! Fuck! You  _ know  _ I love that alpha dominance shit. We can't be friends anymore.”

_ “It was only a couple months ago. You had other shit on your mind. You would have loved watching Jen though. He fought it all the way, but once we got there, he fucking loved it. God, he took it like a fucking champ.” _

“Fuck…” Flopping back onto the couch, Norman groaned loudly. Something he had been fucking  _ dreaming  _ for. “I can't fucking believe you. What the fuck, man. I would have paid to see that shit. I would pay you guys to do it again! That's, like, my  _ favorite  _ kink. Fuck you guys.”

_ “Go fuck your own Alpha. I bet he’d let you, even if he wasn’t really into it. I let Hilarie do it to me. She had to use a fake cock, but whatever.” _

Norman's mouth dropped, yet he couldn't say a word. Also he couldn't help but notice his damn dick’s interest in something Norman wanted to do his entire damn life. “I change my fucking mind, I'm not coming, fuck you. I'm gone for _four months._ _Four._ And you have a fucking kinkfest!”

_ “Hil had just had Gus and she was horny! What the fuck was I supposed to do? Let her suffer? The Jen thing was just a stupid bet. And you know how Misha is. Ask him to let you fuck him, I’m sure he’d drop to all fours on the spot.” _

“Fucking asshole.” Norman huffed, sulking into the couch like a child. “I don't care if I'm dying ‘cause a semi hit me. That shit happens again, you fucking  _ invite  _ me.” Norman cautiously tried to tuck himself away the best he could, as he really  _ shouldn't  _ be in the mood. But thinking of all those alphas, their massive cocks, the gallons of lube they had to go to.

“Dammit,” he hissed softly, trying to shake away the thoughts. This was supposed to be serious. Hell, there were still tear tracks on his cheeks.

_ “I might have a video clip. Possibly. Hil was there, and she felt like being arty.” _

“...” Norman instantly sat up, his voice dropping to a tone that could have rivaled an Alphas. “Listen, Sugar, you're gonna fucking send that shit to me if it's the last thing you'll ever do. I will jerk off my dick if I gotta. I'll send you a video using  _ it _ again. Just get me that shit.”

_ “No need to break out the monster dicks. I’m not gonna send it to you, but when you’re up here, I’ll show you. Don’t need that shit getting put into circulation, know what I mean? Jen would kill me. Literally.” _

“I don't think you understand. I  _ need  _ that shit. I will put it on a flashdrive and put it inside my titanium socket if I gotta for safe keeping. I haven't gotten fresh Alpha porn in goddamn  _ years. _ ”

_ “No dice. I promised Jen and Danneel that I wouldn’t make any copies of it. You’re gonna have to watch it up here. I’ve got plenty of tissues in my office.” _

“Done. I'll blackmail Jen later and get a copy.”

This certainly didn't turn into the most appropriate conversation, but Norman internally shrugged. It was what he loved about his pack. They all could make anything fade away. Closing his eyes, he had to remind himself to get his hand off of his dick. Had to save himself, now.

He let out a tired sigh and rested his head back against the couch. “Is it okay if I turn my phone off after this?” he asked, fully aware that there had been people trying to call him this entire time. He just wanted to curl back up with Andrew. Maybe start packing.

_ “Yeah. Call me when you get into town. Tell prick I said hello.” _

“Yeah, will do.” Norman paused for a moment, then dropped his voice to a soft pitch. “Thanks for bugging me. Didn't know how badly I needed this talk. I, uh… I'll be okay, eventually.”

_ “I know you will. You’re strong, and if you need them, there are a lot of people waiting to help hold you up. Hil and I will be first in line. We love you, Bubba.” _

“Love you, too. Both of you. That won't change, no matter what happens.” Norman paused for a second, and dropped his voice down even more. “I'm glad you told me to give it a chance, Jeff.”

_ “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to hear you bitching about messing up what could have been a good thing. Go cuddle with your man.” _

Snorting, Norman felt his lips quirk up into a small smile. “Love you, man.” After Jeffrey returned the words, Norman finally ended the call, and even though the call had been rocky at best, he felt… better.

Norman quietly turned off his phone and slid it into his pants pocket, and after making sure his dick wasn't completely noticeable, stood up and headed towards the open door of Andrew's office. He leaned around the corner, peering in.

Empty. Shit.

Turning around, Norman checked the bathroom, finding that empty as well. Andrew couldn’t be in the kitchen, because Norman would have seen him, so that left one place. The nest.

Pushing open the partially closed door, Norman smiled. Andrew was burrowed down underneath the covers, and appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

A wicked grin on his face, Norman pounced.

Landing squarely on top of Andrew, Norman’s knees just barely grazed his sides. “Wake up! No sleeping in my nest without me!”

Andrew groaned, and wrapped an arm around Norman’s bicep. “You couldn’t have woken me another way? You had to jump on me?”

“Of course. Better than the boot.” Norman grinned down at Andrew, squirming to sit onto his stomach. Andrew let out another groan and tried to push Norman off, which was unsuccessful.

After some small struggles from Andrew and chuckles by Norman, Andrew finally laid limp and accepted his face. He stared up at Norman with blurry eyes, his brow furrowed. “Are you hungry? Do you need to be let out?” he complained.

Norman rolled his eyes and plopped himself down fully onto Andrew, resting his chin on his upper chest. “You got done with your stuff quick.”

“I only had to call two people. And they live in the same house.” Andrew shrugged one shoulder. “Mum is disappointed, but she understands you need some time with your family. She’s very excited to meet Ming. Already talking about a trip to Pleasure Beach.”

Norman furrowed his brow. “What kinda beaches are you trying to take my kid to? I might be kinky and shit, but this is my pup!  _ I'm  _ fine with going with you, is your Mum like a voyeur or something? Not my thing but I can deal.”

Andrew snorted, then burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Norman! You think I’d want to take your eleven year old son to some sort of kink show? It’s a theme park, for god’s sake! Blackpool Pleasure Beach. Rollercoasters and things like that. I’ll not even go into how horrified I am that you thought I would go to a sex place with my _ mother.” _

Blushing bright red, Norman abruptly rolled off of Andrew and buried his face into the blankets. “Shuddup! I don't know what you Brit people are like! Could all be kinky fuckers and I would look like a damn saint!”

Smirking, Andrew leaned up and bit lightly at Norman’s earlobe. “Some of us are kinky fuckers, but I’d  _ never _ mistake you for a saint. I had you number the moment I saw you. Sex fiend, you are.”

Still desperately attempting to hide his blush, Norman blindly pushed at Andrew's face with his hand. He muffled a few curses into the pillow before finally lifting his head back up. He rolled onto his side to face Andrew again, slowly squirming back to his side. “I'm an open book,” he grinned, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Only for me.” Lacing their fingers together, Andrew brought their hands up to rest on his sternum. “Mum wants us to come out sometime this break. She’s already started planning a party to welcome you to the family. I hope you don’t embarrass easily, because she’ll likely get hold of baby pictures from your mother. Don’t ask me how, but she will.”

“Ah, shit. I was an ugly kid,” Norman groaned, but squeezed Andrew's hand in return. “I'm gonna have to clear it with Helena a bit. I can try to sweet talk her into Christmas, unless she wants us there before then?”

“She was aiming for late September, I think. I don’t really care. Whenever you’re ready to go.”

Huffing under his breath, Norman tucked his head underneath Andrew's chin to take in a deep breath of his scent. He let out his breath in a shudder and a soft groan of want. What type of want, he wasn't sure. Jeffrey had worked him up. 

“We could do that. Helena fusses about holidays, but she had Ming all summer in Italy or whatever.” He cracked open one eye to look up at Andrew, slightly frowning. “Hey. You okay?”

Pulling his other hand out from underneath the blankets, Andrew ran his fingers across Norman’s jaw, and sighed. “I’m as okay as I can be. I decided not to tell mum what happened. She didn’t need to know. It would only make her sad. But, I’m not used to keeping secrets from her.” Andrew chuckled, and turned a little pink. “Bit of a mummy’s boy if you hadn’t already figured that out.”

Norman let out a small laugh. “Same here. My mom is awesome. But it's gonna be hell if we try to get both sides of the family to do something together. Mom likes traveling all over the damn place. I think I held her down for a little while.” Flashing a small grin, he closed his eyes and tucked his head back under Andrew's chin.

“I didn't tell my mom either, when stuff happened before. Didn't really tell anyone at first. Maybe when stuff settles down, if you want to tell her. After she meets Mingus and has a grandson to gush over.”

“I’d rather tell her once she has a new one to gush over.” Andrew looked away for a moment, before returning his gaze to Norman’s. “Only if that’s what you want, of course.”

Norman's hand clenched around Andrew's momentarily. No, he didn't want this conversation.  _ Again.  _ He didn't want the false hope. The expectation that the next time would be fine. “I don't wanna talk about that.” He curled into Andrew's side, lowering his head and resting his forehead against Andrew's shoulder.

“This was a fluke. The heat was a fluke.  _ Everything  _ was a fluke.”

Andrew wrapped his arms around Norman, rubbing up and down his back in long, soothing motions. “We don’t have to talk about it. Only when you’re ready.” Norman felt Andrew brushing a soft kiss to the crown of his head. “How about we talk about something more fun, hmm? Like the fact that you’ll be back with Ming in approximately 48 hours.”

Norman huffed softly. “That's another thing. Are we staying at my place? Like, make it our place? Are we gonna rotate between mine and yours? Are we only gonna use this place for filming? I thought we were gonna keep filming for another week, so I fucked off on actually figuring this stuff out.”

“I’m flexible. You like this place? We’ll stay here. You don’t like it? We’ll go somewhere else. My mum will be happy if I come back for a month or so to visit, though I do have a house outside London that I love, and I think you’d love, too. We’ll figure it out.” Andrew laughed, and said, “I got a text earlier from one of your friends. He said, and I quote, “Everything is just a plane ride away.” End quote. Jeremy, or Jasper, or something like that.”

“How the actual  _ fuck  _ did Jared get your number?” Norman groaned dramatically, flopping his other arm to rest across Andrew's chest. “I didn't give it to him. Jensen doesn't have it.” Then he realized the answer was staring him directly in the face. Jeffrey. Of course it was Jeffrey.

Sighing, Norman sunk into the blankets. “My place isn't the greatest. Living in New York is fucking expensive. I'll ask Helena for the okay, but we could stay up in your place in London for a while when we go visit. Closer to family and all that.”

“Only as long as we get to spend a few days at my place, as well. It’s in Cornwall, right at the tip of the UK. We can go surfing.”

“Shit, I love surfing,” Norman groaned happily, stretching his body out momentarily before yawning. “Haven't had the chance to do that in years.”

“One of the reasons I stay in Cornwall. I do it as often as I can when I’m home. There. Another reason to visit.” Andrew squeezed Norman tightly and grinned at him. “I’ll have you addicted to fish and chips before you know it.”

Norman's smirk widened on his face, looking up at Andrew through thick lashes. “Done and done. Don't need to twist my arm,” he chuckled, and closed his eyes again. He let out a soft sigh of contentment, squirming to burrow deeper into the blankets that surrounded them.

“Shit, all I've done is sleep the last couple of days, but I'm still fucking tired.”

“That’s to be expected from what I was told. We’ll get plenty of rest in the new couple days, that way you can be nice and fresh when we ask Helena for permission to take Mingus to London for a month or two.”

“The only issue I see is school. But it's happened before. If he was in high school and shit like that, it would be a bigger deal.” Norman curled an arm around Andrew's shoulders and gave a small squeeze. “You gonna nap with me or do you got shit to do?”

Dropping a kiss onto Norman’s forehead, Andrew smiled down at him. “You’re the only thing on my list. I’m all yours.”

“Good,” he grunted, only to pull himself up to rest his head squarely onto Andrew's stomach, nuzzling into him slowly. “I'm gonna use you to my full advantage.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	25. Sophia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been three years since that agonizing day, but the wounds are still fresh and bleeding. Andrew does what he can to bandage Norman back together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we got a couple things!
> 
> 1\. OMG I'M SO SORRY WE HAVEN'T BEEN UPDATING. God, what has it been. Two, three weeks? One of us got terribly ill and the other had a bit of an episode, but we are baaaaack!
> 
> 2\. Notice that chapter number? Our journey is almost over. Two more chapters left.

New York City was brilliant. There was no other word for it. Andrew walked into Norman’s apartment, a bag full of the best Chinese food he’d ever eaten in his hands, and smiled softly. He’d only been here for two days, but this place already felt sort of homey. 

He and Mingus got along famously. Ming really was a great kid. Norman and Helena had done an amazing job with him. The first night Andrew had been there, he’d made dinner, and the three of them had sat at the table laughing, and telling stories for hours. Mingus had finally dragged himself off to bed around midnight, grumbling under his breath about school, and Norman and Andrew had curled up on the couch.

Norman was quiet after Mingus went to bed. He lay his head on Andrew’s shoulder, staring out the large windows that looked out over the city. Andrew was content to lay behind him, his fingers stroking softly at whatever part of Norman’s skin they could find, and soak up the silence. Well, silence was probably too strong a word. It was still New York City, after all, and even several flights up, Andrew could hear the honking of cars and occasional shouts. Maybe peace was a better choice. Soaking up all the peace.

It wasn't long until Norman had dozed off, being somehow comforted by the constant noise, and Andrew accepted the fact that it may be several hours until he too fell asleep. Norman's snoring was a good buffer to the street noises, at least.

He awoke the next morning to Norman helping Mingus get ready for school, and Andrew even caught the rare sight of Eye in the Dark. That had ended the moment the cat had eaten his fill, then sprinted up the stairs to where Andrew assumed the bedrooms were. Norman hadn't the chance to give him a tour, not when his first instinct had been crushing Mingus with affection.

Helena had been… disconcerted by Andrew, mostly due to the fact that he and Norman were not mated. Andrew had felt her glare on his back during his every interaction with Mingus, and it was an extremely awkward exchange when Norman asked Helena to leave. A mixture of growls and grumbles later, they finally had been allowed alone.

It was in that moment that Andrew saw that Omega side of Norman. His attempt to avoid a fight, padding out his words with caution. It wasn't hard to see that their relationship had been strained, even with their pleasantness on the surface.

But that was yesterday. Today was a brand new day, and a possible beginning to their more homely lives. No filming, no pressures, just time for themselves. It was with that thought that Andrew decided it would be their first official date night. Day. Afternoon. Whatever it would be called until Mingus came home from school.

“Norm?” Andrew called out as he stepped inside the apartment. When he had left, Norman had said he would take a nap on the couch. Well, there was not a Norman on the couch. Frowning, Andrew packed away the delicious Chinese food into the fridge. Maybe he was playing around with his cat, who seemed to prefer the upstairs rooms.

Walking up the stairs, Andrew took in a deep breath. Norman was certainly upstairs, but there was something… A little off. Not a sick type of off, but just not right. Furrowing his brow, he stared down the hallway that greeted him. There was one door that was open.

“Norman, are you up here?” he asked, looking at the doors he passed. One was labeled as Mingus’, with a sign that looked like it was made three or four years ago. He chuckled to himself. Mingus was at the stage where he attempted to be more adult than anyone else, yet he still snuggled up to Norman without a second thought.

Finally he peered into the open door, and he immediately recognized the closed off structure. Norman's nest.

Blankets were draped from the ceiling to make the room more closed in, and there was the wooden banister that surrounded mattresses and pillows in the far back. It was then that he saw the lump beneath several blankets.

Hesitating for a moment, but remembering the usual rule that an open door meant he was allowed inside, Andrew stepped into the room.

Kneeling down next to Norman, Andrew looked curiously at the Omega’s hands. He was fidgeting with a small scrap of fabric, and rubbing his fingers across it.

“Norman?” Andrew said, brushing his fingers across Norman’s shoulder. “I brought food. That place you told me about.”

Norman sighed, and peered up at Andrew. “M’not hungry,” he whispered, turning his gaze back to the fabric in his hands.

“Let me get out a tape recorder and record that, please,” Andrew tried to joke. “Have those words ever come out of your mouth voluntarily?”

“Shut up,” Norman grumbled, balling up a fist, and swinging it half-heartedly in Andrew’s direction. “Got shit on my mind.”

Flattening himself out, Andrew curled his hand around Norman’s hip, and tugged lightly. “Feel like sharing? Chinese food is even better reheated.”

Norman snorted and shook his head. “Depends on what kind of Chinese it is. Seafood tastes like shit the next day. Noodles are good. Rice, too, if you know how to reheat it.”

“Do you know how to reheat it?”

“No. Ming does.”

“I suppose I’ll have to have him warm up my fried rice then.” Andrew scooted closer, and tried to get a better look at the cloth Norman was still fiddling with. “What do you have there? Looks like doll clothes.”

“It’s uh...It’s a onesie. Baby clothes.”

Andrew reached out and rubbed a thumb across the fabric. “Soft. Was it Ming’s?”

Norman’s voice was so soft when he answered that Andrew almost didn’t hear it. “No. It was Sophia’s. I bought it at a little place in the Village. There was this chick selling all sorts of stuff. Beads and incense and hippie shit like that. Peace signs everywhere. Then she had these fuckin’ baby clothes off to the side.” Norman’s fingers rubbed over the slightly raised lettering Andrew could see on the tiny thing. “Our little princess,” he sighed.

Staying silent, Andrew reached out and laced his fingers with Norman’s. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. For either of them.

“We planned her, you know,” Norman said, his eyes never leaving the onesie. “Me and Jeff. Even though the doctors told me after Ming that it wasn’t gonna happen. I went into heat, and if I went into heat once, we figured could trigger it again. Took like six months, but it happened.” Norman let out a shuddering sigh, his fingers tightening on Andrew’s hand. “We were over the fucking moon happy. You have no idea.”

Andrew bit back the wish to prompt Norman further, and instead tried his best to curl closer against Norman. It instead mostly left him almost straddling the wooden beams, but he silenced his complaints. Andrew ran his thumb across the back of Norman's hand, trying to be that silent comfort. After a few more moments, Norman finally continued.

“She, uh. We went to docs right away, from day one. It wasn't like with Mingus. I had energy, ate like a fucking cow, didn't get very sick… Felt like a vacation compared to Ming. Jeff, he planned out the whole nursery before I even showed.” Turning his head, Norman gave a small smirk. “You think I was a pain in the ass with my nest?  _ Constant  _ from him.”

Andrew chuckled, allowing the moment to let him smile softly to Norman, and it almost made Norman smile back, but then he looked back to the onesie and it disappeared. Clearing his throat, Norman sighed, “We got to the… Almost 30 weeks.”

The Alpha couldn't suppress the small flinch, or the sudden clenching in his gut. 30?  _ 30? _ Norman had told him once that he had a miscarriage, back when they first found out he was pregnant. But  _ this. _ This wasn't just a miscarriage.

His Omega's voice had dropped low, and Andrew detected the smallest shudder to his words. “We… We got this lil’ monitor from the docs. And… Before we go to bed, we always-”

Norman flinched, cringing in and curling himself around the onesie in his arms that he now clutched to. He took in a gasping breath that brought chills down Andrew's spine.

“Norman, you don't have to-”

“I-I felt wrong and cold… And we went to the hospital, but they couldn't-”

Norman broke off again, a soft sob ending his words. Andrew immediately curled his arm tighter around his partner, rumbling soft words of comfort that he didn't even think would lessen the pain. But Andrew still didn't understand  _ why  _ Norman was telling him all this. Forcing himself to think of something so painful...

“Norman, you  _ really _ don’t have to-”

“I do.” Norman met Andrew’s eyes, determination visible below the glassy sheen of tears. “You deserve to know.  Especially if you’re planning on sticking around.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Norman nodded, and took a deep breath. “They gave me stuff to put me into labor, but I ended up having a c-section anyway.” Norman huffed, and shook his head. “I dealt with contractions for like eight hours before they decided I wasn’t gonna have her normally. Jeff stayed the whole time. Holding my hand, getting me ice chips and shit.” Norman’s voice trailed off for a minute before he spoke again. “I think he thought maybe the doctors were wrong. The somehow, she’d be okay. That it was a mistake. Wasn’t though.”

Leaning forward, Andrew pressed his forehead against Norman’s shoulder, tears starting to gather in his own eyes at the images Norman’s words were creating in his head.

“They let me hold her. She was so small.” Norman’s fingers twitched where they still held on to the onesie. “Even smaller than this. Hell, she fit in the palm of my fucking hand, but she looked perfect. Almost looked like a doll, that’s how perfect she was. I sat there for god only knows how long, just looking at her, and wondering what I did wrong. What I did that was so awful that my baby…” Norman broke off with a sob, and buried his face in Andrew’s neck.

Pressing his lips to Norman's temple, Andrew ran his other hand up and down Norman's back. Taking a deep breath, Andrew let it out with a long sigh. “I can’t...” He shuddered softly before he continued. “What happened to us was bad. Horrible, even. But losing it after that long… After feeling it move, and listening to it’s heartbeat. Seeing it on an ultrasound. I can’t imagine how badly that must have hurt.”

His muscles were clenched and tense beneath Andrew's touch, and his hands twisted into the thin fabric of his shirt to the point that he feared he may rip it. “Sh-she just… They wouldn't tell me why. Was fine a week before, then…” Norman broke off again, pushing his face deeper into Andrew's neck. His chest heaved, but he fought back the tears.

Before he allowed Andrew to cut in, he already continued. “They didn't let me see Ming. ‘Cause I didn't know how to tell him. It hurt so bad I wanted to die. And Jeffrey… He kept telling me that we'd try again. But I didn't fucking  _ want _ to try again. We fought so fucking much, I locked myself in the fucked up nursery, and… And he fucking left. Just… Just left.”

Andrew's breath paused in his chest, and his arms tightened almost painfully. The thought of  _ anyone  _ leaving Norman alone in that state… It took precious moment to bury away the anger that flared inside of him.

“You know I’m not Jeffrey’s biggest fan, and I think leaving you there alone was probably one of the worst things he could have done…” Andrew sucked in a deep breath to calm himself and continued, “But he was probably overwhelmed. Everyone deals with things like that differently.”

“I  _ needed  _ him, Andy. And… And I kept thinking horrible things… That it was my fault, and…” Norman's voice turned back into a shudder, and soft drips fell onto Andrew's shirt. “If Jared didn't keep calling me for fucking hours, and if Jensen didn't come and break down that damn door…”

Andrew smiled softly, and squeezed Norman again. “It sounds like you’ve got some good friends. If anything even remotely traumatic happens to you when I’m around, however, you’ll be lucky if you can pry me away from your side with a crowbar.”

There was a soft wheeze which could have been an attempt at a laugh, even as tears continued to drip down Norman's cheeks. “They got in so much fucking trouble…” Norman huffed softly. “Jensen took me with ‘em back to Vancouver. Him and Jared both said that they weren't letting me outta their sights, even if they had to chain themselves to me. Found out that they bailed in the middle of a night shoot just for me. Turned the trailer into a nest for me.”

“They get bonus points in my mental hierarchy of your friends. Plus 10 points for not being assholes. They’ve shot up to the top of the list now.” He lifted a hand and rubbed a thumb across Norman’s tear-streaked cheek. “Guess who is all the way at the bottom,” he smirked.

“Totally Jon. Or Steven. Assholes.” Norman managed a better chuckle this time, not shifting away from Andrew's hand. Taking in a breath to calm himself as much as he could, he sighed. 

“I know what you need,” Andrew whispered. Glancing up around them, he winced. “It… might be more comfortable for  _ both  _ of us if we take this to your bedroom.”

“Fucking perv.”

His face flushing bright red with heat, Andrew shook his head frantically. “I-I didn't mean- It's just your nest is so small, I can't…”

“Unclench, Andy, I know what you meant.” Norman shook his head, and started sitting up, gathering piles of blankets in his arms. 

Standing up, Andrew rubbed at his back, entirely certain that there was an impression of a two by four permanently imprinted there. “I’m going to change into some other clothes, and I’ll meet you in there.” 

Andrew hurried downstairs, and flung open the lid of his suitcase. Searching around inside, he found a soft pair of pajama pants, and his favorite, old sex-pistols t-shirt. The material was paper thin from all the washings it’d had over the years, and it felt almost like wearing nothing. He dropped his other clothes in the middle of the entranceway, and changed quickly before thundering back up the stairs.

The room was large and open, with floor to ceiling windows along one wall, and masks hung on the off white walls. Norman was sprawled out on a large platform bed that was situated in the center of the room.

Squinting his eyes at the sunlight flooding into the room, Andrew asked, “How do you sleep in here during the day? I think I might be blind.”

Norman lifted his head up from where he had scraped together his pillows and blankets, having already wrapped his arms around one in particular and kneading into the fabric. He gave a light shrug. “I can sleep just about anywhere. Ain't too picky,” he responded, and laid his head back down. “Got curtains if you wanna close them. Make it dark.”

“Please.”

Norman let out a soft groan at that, flopping over the bed. “I said if  _ you  _ wanna close them, asshole,” he grumbled, but was already worming his way off the bed. He had changed into pajamas at this point, or his version of them. It was an old hoodie and soft pajama pants. He walked to the edge of the window before grabbing onto a string, and began dragging blackout curtains over the windows.

Within moments, the room darkened, only small slivers of light visible between the separate curtains. “Better?” Norman asked, though it was more sarcastic than not. He flopped himself back onto the bed without waiting for an answer. 

“I’m impressed with the professional service.” Andrew rolled over, and pressed the entire length of his body alongside Norman’s. “You get a big tip.”

“Thank fuck,” Norman groaned softly, but did not mind one bit the close contact of their bodies. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Andrew's cheek, just close enough to where he could take deep breaths of Andrew's scent. “Take a raincheck on that big-ass tip.”

Long fingers began combing through Norman’s hair. “Make sure you use it before it expires. Not valid on major holidays.”

“The fuck am I supposed to use it then? Thought it'd be a damn good Christmas gift,” he muttered against Andrew's neck, his breath running across his skin. He pulled his arm around Andrew's chest, closing his eyes as he lost himself to the gentle touches.

“Please direct all questions to upper management,” Andrew grinned, pulling lightly at Norman’s short hair.

The Omega let out a groan of annoyance, but the soft flush on his face was enough to show that he was enjoying the physical attention. A soft purr rumbled from him, and he nuzzled just gently against Andrew's cheek. “God I love it when you talk dirty,” he teased, smirking just slightly.

Andrew’s lips twitched. “Don’t start something you won’t want to finish,” he said, turning his head to look down at Norman.

There was a small flinch from Norman at his words, and he soon turned quiet. Chances were that he was struggling to not say he was sorry for his actions. But instead his eyes remained shut, and he tried not to move, as if any false move would lead to exactly what Andrew warned; start something he can't finish.

“Hey.” Andrew nudged at Norman’s head with his nose. “I get it.” He wrapped his arms completely around his Omega’s torso, and moved in as close as he could get. “It’s alright to need this sometimes. Anything that uh… comes up on my end I can deal with later.”

Norman let out a soft huff, his head still tucked down. “I just… It's…” he trailed off, trying to pick and choose his words but coming up with little more than fumbling. His hands grasped onto the back of Andrew's shirt, kneading into it nervously.

Andrew levered himself up onto his elbow, and reached down toward the end of the bed to snag one of the blankets, dragging it back up over the two of them. Maneuvering himself, impossibly, even closer to Norman, he let out a soft sigh. Threading the fingers of one hand through Norman’s hair, the other began tracing lazy patterns across his back. “This is perfect.”

It was small, but a purr managed to work out from Norman's body, leaving him to curl into the contours of Andrew's body. He would take in deep breaths, filling his lungs with nothing but his Alpha, then let them out in soft sighs. “Wanna stay like this. Just me and you,” he murmured, his fingers finally loosening their grasp on Andrew's shirt.

“I’m completely on board with that plan,” Andrew said, ducking his head, and tucking his nose into the space behind Norman’s ear, laying a small kiss on the soft skin. “Crowbar, remember?”

“Yeah. Crowbar.”

Sometime later, Andrew stirred sleepily. There was a quiet whispering coming from Norman’s side of the bed. He lifted his head, and blinked slowly, just able to make out Norman sitting up, and talking to Mingus. “Norman? Everything alright?”

Norman glanced over his shoulder, and smiled. “Yeah. S’fine.” He dipped his head, and looked up at Andrew from under his lashes. “You mind if Ming comes and lays with us for a little while?”

Andrew looked back at Mingus. He was standing there, shifting nervously from foot to foot, his thumbnail firmly lodged in his mouth being furiously chewed. “More the merrier. Come on,” Andrew said, pulling on Norman’s shoulder to make more room on the bed.

Mingus clambered onto the bed. All long limbs and awkward angles. He huffed softly when Norman caught an elbow in the cheek.  After finally wiggling himself into a comfortable position, tucked securely into Norman’s arms, head lodged under his chin, Andrew moved in closer. He reached over and ruffled Mingus’ hair, and looped an arm around Norman’s waist, laying his head down and nuzzling sleepily into Norman’s hair. “Next time don’t bother to wake me, alright?”

“Thought for a minute that you died on me. Kept poking you,” Norman teases softly, looking back over his shoulder to meet Andrew's eyes. 

There was a light shining through the gloom, a rare moment of happiness that made Andrew's heart swell. Pressing his lips to Norman's, while Norman covered Mingus’ eyes with his hand, he let out a happy sigh as he gave Norman a squeeze.

In that moment that Andrew knew that what he had was special, and that no matter what was thrown into their path, he and Norman would remain fixed to each other's sides. Not even a crowbar would wrench them apart.


	26. Three Years Too Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to start healing wounds, and that starts with Jeffrey and Norman, as they talk about that day three years ago.

Nibbling on his thumb, Norman looked out at the bare limbs of the trees overlooking the road, and shivered. Staring dejectedly at his lap, he said, “I’m not sure this was a good idea.”

Andrew glanced at him, and raised an eyebrow. “This was your idea, Norm.” Andrew looked back at the road. “And we’re only five minutes from the house.”

Holding back a curse, Norman pulled his thumb out of his mouth. Shit. He’d made himself bleed. Trying to tuck the wounded digit into his curled fingers, Norman started chewing on his lip instead.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Andrew murmured, reaching over, and grabbing Norman’s hand without taking his eyes off the road. Rubbing his fingers across the small bit of torn skin, Andrew made a tutting sound, and turned disapproving eyes onto Norman. “He’s one of your oldest friends. And there are things you two need to say to each other.”

Norman barely held himself back from rolling his eyes. Andy was in his, ‘I know what’s best for you because I’m an Alpha,’ mode, and there was no dragging him out of it now. “Yes, mother,” Norman mumbled, smirking slightly at the small growl that Andrew let out.

“If you want to play like that, Norman, I’m all for it, but let’s get this visit over and done with first. After we get back home, I’ll be more than happy to let you call me  _ Daddy.” _

“Dude,” Norman said, his face scrunching up in distaste. “I am  _ so _ not into that.”

“Oh, thank God,” Andrew breathed, releasing Norman’s hand to press his own against his chest.

Norman frowned. “What’d’ya bring it up for?"

“I don’t know,” Andrew said, his face slightly pink. “You called me mother, and... I don’t fucking know, okay!”

Leaning across the seat, Norman playfully smacked Andrew’s arm. He could feel the smile tugging on his lips, something he hadn’t thought would be possible today. “You idiot,” he chuckled, feeling some of the tension unwinding from his body.

Andrew flushed deeper, and he kept his eyes focused strictly on the road with such focus that Norman thought he would burn holes through the windshield.

They fell into silence again, and Norman looked back out the window. It was always pretty in this part of New York. Away from the cities, quiet and peaceful. Secluded, almost. He remembered when he called this little place home. It had been three years since then. And honestly, he had barely been back since. Little visits now and then, hanging out in the nest with Hilarie, Mingus wanting to see Uncle Jeffrey, but those visits were nothing like when he called this place home.

Andrew rounded a small curve and Norman caught the first glimpse of the farmhouse. His stomach heaved itself into his throat. “Changed my mind,” he breathed, feeling his body grow stiff.

The car jerked, Andrew hitting the brakes for a split second, before continuing on as if nothing happened.

“I’m fucking serious, Andy,” Norman hissed, louder this time. Had he not felt himself sink into the seat, he may have had the mind to grab the steering wheel and turn them around by force. But Andrew kept driving.

“It’s too late now,” Andrew hummed under his breath, though Norman could see his knuckles starting to clench on the steering wheel. The Alpha’s jaw jerked shut, his teeth almost grinding. Norman’s panic obviously was affecting him.

Well, fucking good then. That’s the point.

“Andy, I’m not doing this now. I-I need more time. I’m not in a good place, I-”

“You’ve had three years. You need to talk to him.”

Andrew’s stern voice silenced Norman, a shiver running down his spine at the warning in his growl. His hands on the steering wheel flexed again, before loosening. Andrew still stared straight out onto the road, and the farmhouse was getting closer and closer with every moment.

Sucking in a deep breath, Andrew let it out in a sigh. His voice was quieter, now. Calmer. It didn’t do anything to ease Norman, though. “I called him this morning. I told him that you two needed to talk. It’s happening, Norm. I’m not letting you worm out of this.”

A dull pain latched onto Norman’s chest, but defeat had already forced his body into a strange sense of calmness. Andrew wasn’t letting him back out of this, and as they pulled up to the actual house, Norman recognized the singular vehicle parked there as Jeffrey’s. Hilarie wasn’t here.

“She’s out with Gus,” Andrew confirmed his thoughts. “It’s just us.”

Norman couldn’t stifle the small groan, and unconsciously started chewing on his thumb again.

“Stop that,” Andrew grunted without looking over.

“Fuck you,” Norman muttered back, sinking as far into his seat as he could, like there was a chance he could disappear from sight.

Sighing loudly, Andrew finally parked right beside Jeffrey’s black SUV. He had bought it when Hilarie had gotten pregnant, already planning on all the baby things that would need to be lugged around. Hilarie, apparently, had the same idea, and came back the very same day with a white SUV. It was a good laugh. Norman didn’t feel like laughing right now.

Andrew turned the car off and Norman could feel his stare, waiting for him to get out of the car. Norman didn’t move. Yes, he was going to be a stubborn baby, and no, Norman didn’t care. Anything to get out of this.

Within moments of parking, the front door swung open, and Norman had to frantically try to swallow down his rapidly pounding heart.

A brown and white blur rushed out around Jeffrey’s legs, and bounded over to the car. Norman grinned and rolled down the window. “Hey Bandit,” he said, reaching a hand out to run through the dog’s thick fur, scratching him behind the ears where he liked best. “How you doin’, buddy?”

He was still sitting there. In the car, petting Bandit, several minutes later.

Norman stiffened when Jeffrey loped down the driveway to the car. “You’re gonna give a man a complex, Norm. My fuckin’ dog gets more love than I do? Come on. Get out of the car, I need some Norman huggin’.”

He looked at Andrew, half hoping for him to have a scowl on his face at the prospect of Norman having any contact with Jeffrey. He was disappointed when Andrew only gave him a smile and a nod, proceeding to get out of the car, and walk around to shake Jeffrey’s hand.

Reluctantly getting out of the car, Norman was immediately enfolded in Jeffrey’s arms. “Missed you, Bubba.” Steeling himself, Norman inhaled slightly and was completely overwhelmed by the strong scent wafting from Jeffrey. Obeying his instincts, Norman recoiled, pushing Jeffrey’s hands off him, and retreating to Andrew’s side. He buried his nose in Andrew’s neck, washing away Jeffrey’s musky scent with Andrew’s clean, refreshing one.

“What the actual  _ fuck?” _ Jeffrey growled, moving towards Andrew and Norman.

Andrew held out a hand, and Jeffrey didn’t stop until it was resting against his chest. “You need to stop,” Andrew said, ignoring Jeffrey’s slight posturing. “Norman has had a rough couple weeks. Cut him some slack.”

“We’ve been friends for like fifteen fucking years, and now I’m not allowed to hug one of my best fucking friends?” Jeffrey’s fists clenched at his sides. “Fuck that, and fuck you!” 

“It’s not like that, Jeff,” Norman said, his face still half buried in Andrew’s neck. He had backed them up a step, pressing against the car door just in case he needed a quick escape. Looking up at Jeffrey, Norman swallowed hard, and tried to ignore the red sheen in his eyes.

“Not doing good with Alphas right now. That's all.”

“Seems to be doin’ just fine with  _ him,” _ Jeffrey growled, jerking his chin at Andrew.

Jeffrey and Andrew’s gazes locked, both of them red eyed, and seemingly seconds from trying to tear each other apart. Andrew growled out, “Just back off, Jeffrey. Now is not the fucking time for this Alpha versus Alpha bullshit.” He glanced at Norman, who was gripping the door of the car so tightly his knuckles were white, before looking back at Jeffrey. “Remember why we came here, and  _ back the fuck off.” _

Jeffrey’s shoulders slumped, his eyes returning to their normal soft brown, and he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah. Guess now isn’t the best time for all this bullshit.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Jeffrey turned, and headed back to the house. “Whatever is happening here, it’ll probably be more comfortable happening inside.” His eyes were sad when he looked at Norman again. “Just come inside when you’re ready. I’ll be in there.”

Norman nodded, and had to look away from Jeffrey’s face. He didn’t want to hurt Jeffrey, he really didn’t, but it just hadn’t felt right being in his arms like that. 

His arms tightening around Norman, Andrew pressed a kiss into his hair. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Norman said, inhaling Andrew’s scent deeply once more. “Yeah, I’m okay. Still don’t wanna go inside though.”

Andrew chuckled, and loosened his grip, maneuvering Norman until their eyes could meet. “I know you don’t want to, but this has been eating at you for three years.” Andrew brushed his thumb across Norman’s cheekbone, and Norman shivered. “Don’t you think it’s time you got it all off your chest?”

Grumbling under his breath, Norman scowled. “Ignoring it was working.”

Andrew quirked up an eyebrow.

Norman scowled again. “Sorta.”

“Sorta,” Andrew repeated in a soft hum, and Norman could tell he was trying his noble best to not roll his eyes. He ran his fingertips momentarily into Norman’s hair, enough to give him another shiver, before dropping his hand. “I won’t be far, no matter what. Alright?” he murmured, like that was supposed to be comforting.

Norman just huffed, and finally pulled back from Andrew, even as he felt the usual ache of loss because of it. As soon as this was over, they would go back home. Back to Eye, who would still be pissed that he brought another Alpha into the house. Clearing his throat, Norman glanced to the door, but his feet wouldn’t move.

Andrew remedied this by gently grasping his hand and giving a small tug, just enough prodding to ease Norman onward.

As soon as Norman was inside, though, his entire body felt conflicted. He was almost immediately overwhelmed with the smell of pup.  _ Gus. _

It left Norman straddling the razor thin line between feeling relief from such a comforting scent, or breaking down just by its presence. That ache never really went away, after her. And the last couple weeks had only brought up those wounds again. But here Jeffrey was, a happy father to a beautiful pup, and it just… It just felt shitty.

Like he’d failed again.

Andrew nudged him as discreetly as he could, prompting him to move again. Norman locked onto the plush couch that was closest, and immediately tucked himself into the arm.

This wasn’t like him, to be so panicked about something as stupid as scent. Here he thought he’d grown out of that Omega weakness, but it just kept coming back.

“Hey,” he heard Andrew murmur beside him, but Norman just shifted deeper into the corner of the couch.

“Gimme a sec,” Norman managed to wheeze out, trying to filter through the swarming thoughts and memories caused just by scent. His stupid nose. Jeffrey had always teased him that he was practically a shark, sensing a drop of blood in miles of ocean. Right now he would rather not smell anything at all.

Andrew fell quiet again, but Norman could feel him sitting right beside him on the couch. Patiently waiting for Norman to come back. Norman was just aware of Andrew’s hand running up and down his back in gentle strokes.

Finally after what felt like way too long, Norman managed to calm his senses. He was at Jeffrey’s house. Nothing was wrong. Nothing bad was happening. Everything was quiet. No shouting or slamming doors or sobbing, just quiet.

“Better?”

Norman nodded, lifting his face from where he had apparently squished it right into the cushion. He uncurled his body slowly, and took a quick glance around. Jeffrey wasn’t in the room. Honestly, Norman couldn’t remember if he had been there when he walked in. Sucking in a deep breath, Norman let it out slow, and let his panic, for the most part, wash away.

There. Now he was better. Kinda.

Nodding again, Norman sank into the couch normally, taking in the room properly. Jeffrey had cleaned, since Norman could see an overflowing box of toys shoved into the corner. He was trying, at least.

“Order up!”

Jeffrey’s booming voice shook him from his thoughts, his eyes snapping to the grinning man as he set a tray down onto the coffee table. “Knew it’s been a while since you had Hil’s special tea, Normski, so I made a pitcher just for you.”

“Hot tea?”

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes and mock glared at Andrew. “No, it’s not fucking hot tea. Who the fuck drinks hot tea?”

“Ah shit,” Norman groaned, reaching out and pressing his palm against Andrew's opening mouth. “Don't go there. We'd never leave.”

Prying Norman’s hand off his mouth, Andrew glared at Jeffrey. “People have only been drinking hot tea for centuries, you-” He snapped his mouth shut before he went any further. “Bloody Americans, ruining perfectly good tea with ice,” he muttered under his breath.

Bandit ran into the room while they were drinking their tea, making a beeline straight for one of Gus’ toys that had fallen out of the overflowing toy box.

“Shit!” Jeffrey yelled, doing his best to extract the thing from Bandit’s mouth. “No! No biting Gus’ toys!”

He finally pulled it free, and started wiping off the drool. Looking up, he pointed a finger at Norman and Andrew, who were laughing their asses off on the couch. “Shut up. Not a word about this to Hilarie. She’ll kick my ass. I told her I picked up all this shit.”

“Like hell am I being quiet. She should know by now you can't clean up. You  _ always  _ left out Mingus’ toys. I still got scars on my feet from the legos.” Norman smirked as he shifted to rest more comfortably against Andrew, watching Bandit begin searching for another toy. There was, of course, dog ropes and other dog toys, but it would always be more fun to play with human toys.

Jeffrey didn’t even bother looking up at Norman. Just held up one middle finger, and then continued wiping drool off Gus’ toy. “Asshole.”

“Now you get to sit there and know your kid's gonna shove that in his mouth right after it came outta the mouth of the mutt who licks his own ass.”

“Shit.” Jeffrey slumped back into the chair, the toy held loosely in one hand. “Can you put these things in the dishwasher?” he asked, looking between them. “Like a bottle, right?”

Norman let out a long groan, then moved to his feet. His eyes were narrowed as he walked across the living room and picked up the toy from Jeffrey’s hand. “You're a fucking idiot sometimes. You use bleach. And you  _ hand wash  _ bottles. You're lucky he doesn't get fucking sick.”

By the time he finished speaking, Norman's entire demeanor had changed. His eyes were sharp and flinty, and his body had turned stiff. Norman turned away once he grabbed the toy, then began picking up any other random baby toys he found. “God, how the hell did you get this far?”

“Hilarie is a goddess,” Jeffrey smiled, a soft look in his eyes. “I just follow her instructions, and hope I don’t fuck anything up too badly."

“I can’t wait to meet her properly. She sounds like an amazing lady from all the stories you two have told about her,” Andrew said, his eyes following Norman’s progress around the room.

A soft mutter came from Norman, his eyes still narrowed as he picked up a toy and turned it in his hands, looking for any sign of a flaw. “I told you how to deal with this shit before. Hilarie shouldn't have to babysit you, too,” he said louder this time, before walking to the kitchen. He’d just wash all the shit himself. At least then he’d know Gus wouldn’t get sick.

* * *

Taking advantage of a Norman-free moment, however fleeting it might be, Andrew turned to Jeffrey. “While he’s in the other room, I’ve got something I’d like to ask you to do.”

“Yeah?” Jeffrey asked, a smirk tugging at his mouth. His eyes had narrowed, and it seemed like their truce only held when Norman was among them. “And why the fuck would I do anything for you?”

“Because it’s not for me.” Andrew jerked his head toward the kitchen, where Norman was apparently sterilizing everything he could get his hands on. “It’s for him.”

“Go on then.”

Knowing better than to soften the blow at all, since it would only waste time, Andrew didn’t hesitate. “He told me about the baby you two lost.”

Jeffrey blanched, his entire body turning rigid. His eyes went wide, before he rapidly shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about-”   
  
“I don’t really care,” Andrew cut him off. “I’m not going into detail about anything, anyway, so relax.” This didn't make Jeffrey any less stiff, and Andrew watched his hands clench onto the armrests of the chair.

Tapping his fingers on his legs, Andrew said, softly, “When you left him. Alone in that nursery.” He shook his head, his throat getting tight. “You shouldn’t have done that. He needed you. Other people came and helped him eventually, but he sat in that room, mourning the loss of his child for  _ hours  _ with no one there to lean on. I understand that you were dealing with your own grief, but still… You shouldn’t have left him there alone.”

Jeffrey sighed, and buried his face in his hands for a few moments before looking back up at Andrew. “I know. I know I shouldn’t have, but if I hadn’t…” He trailed off, and Andrew could just see the slightest shine in his eyes.

“After I left, I went out to this old outbuilding we had.” Jeffrey laughed, but there was no humor in his voice. It was dry and pained. “It was built sometime in the 1800’s, and that thing was sturdy as shit. Solid rock.”

He held out his hands, and stared at them, flexing his fingers back and forth. “I beat on that wall for a good ten minutes before I stopped. Spent the next 10 hours or so in the hospital getting all my broken shit set. I think the final count was 7 broken knuckles, and multiple fractures in every single finger. My hands looked like hamburger, and I could barely hold on to the steering wheel of my car to get to the hospital.”

“I’m sorry that that happened to you. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” Andrew’s voice took on a hard edge, and he spoke from between clenched teeth. “No parent should ever have to bury a child.” He leaned forward in the chair, and locked eyes with Jeffrey’s still shimmering ones. “But that day is still with him. He thinks he did something wrong, and that’s why you left.”

“What?” Jeffrey huffed, disbelieving. He muttered something under his breath and refused to meet Andrew’s eyes. “Bullshit, man. He’d never think that.”

Andrew watched Jeffrey wipe his eyes with the collar of his shirt, and continued talking. “He does. You need to speak with him about it, or it’s going to eat away at him until the day he dies. Tell him why you left. Tell him it wasn’t his fault. Whatever the hell you need to do to make it right.”

Crossing his legs Andrew sat back against the cushions once more, his eyes scanning Jeffrey’s face. The disbelief was slowly melting, and Andrew could see resolve taking its place.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank you.”

“Jeffrey, how many  _ fucking _ bottles do you have?!”

Norman's loud complaint drifted from the kitchen, then the Omega popped around the corner. He had rubber gloves all the way to his elbows, suds almost as far, and he was holding three plastic bottles in his hands. His eyes were still sharp, and it didn't take being Norman's partner to know that he was agitated.

“Do you  _ never  _ clean these things? Like  _ actually  _ clean them. Big ass brush and all that shit. Or do you just go buy a fucking new one instead?”

“Hilarie takes care of all that shit. Says I don’t do it right.” Jeffrey shrugged, and a wide grin appeared on his face. “I’m not gonna argue.”

Norman opened his mouth to snap back at him, only to blink. He glanced to Andrew and then back to Jeffrey, then back to Andrew. His eyes narrowed. “I leave you two alone for, like, three minutes and you made him cry?!”

Andrew opened his mouth to say something, but Jeffrey cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Bandit just got me in a  _ delicate _ spot, if you catch my meaning,” Jeffrey said. “He’s a little over enthusiastic at times.”

“Yes,” Andrew nodded. “That.” His eyes shifted away from Norman’s to look at Bandit where he was curled up in front of the fireplace panting happily. “Bad dog.”

Suspicion filled Norman’s gaze as he looked at the both of them, waiting for one to squirm, but he eventually slid his gaze to Bandit. “See, Andy, Eye isn't  _ that _ bad,” he said, messing with the bottles in his hands before turning back into the kitchen. “I could teach you how to do this, Jeffrey, so you can stop relying on Hil to take care of  _ your  _ pup.”

Jeffrey raised a hand and rubbed at the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I change diapers and shit. Give baths, feed him. I just suck at washing bottles, gimmie a break.”

Complaints and judgements flooded out from the kitchen, though was overpowered by the sound of whatever Norman was cleaning.

The sound of sloshing water soon became the only sound in the house, other than the crackling fireplace and the occasional pant from Bandit. Neither of the Alphas were comfortable in bringing up conversation, not with the last one still hanging in the air. Jeffrey stared into the fire, lost in thought, while Andrew tried to crane his neck to look into the kitchen.

The noises weren't just washing anymore. He heard things being placed around, taken, dropped onto a counter, pots and pans banging together, water being poured, then poured again later.

Assuming that perhaps Norman was trying to cook something,  Andrew sighed. The last thing he wanted was for Norman to set the ranch on fire. Then the kitchen went silent again. Andrew glanced down to his watch. A minute. Then two. Then four.

Shooting a glance at Jeffrey, who was still staring into the fire, Andrew pulled himself up from the couch. He tread carefully, trying not to make too much noise so he wouldn’t startle Norman. Finally he peeked around the corner, then swallowed.

There was water on the counters from Norman's almost frantic cleaning at the sink, and towels were laid out that had a nearly a dozen glass and plastic bottles standing upside down to dry. Toys were sitting on their own towels, as if being too close together would contaminate them.

Norman was sitting on a stool, his sleeves still rolled up and water splashed here and there, but he was looking at something on the small island. Just staring. A sick feeling fell into his stomach as he realized it was a freshly made bottle of formula, all prepared and ready for a baby that wasn't here, or maybe the one that had been lost years ago.

Andrew’s stomach plummeted down into the floor. He approached cautiously, saying quietly, “Norman? Need some help in here?”

Norman blinked, still staring down at the bottle. He held it in one hand, turning it, as if at a certain angle it would turn into something else. “Nah, I got it.” His voice was soft, more of a breath than anything else as he stared at the white liquid inside the bottle.

Sliding a hand down Norman’s back, Andrew moved in closer, and placed a kiss on the nape of his neck. “Are you sure? Maybe I can make lunch for everyone.” He bumped his hip into Norman’s. “You can be my special helper.”

Surprisingly, a smirk crossed his face, and he leaned in closer to Andrew, but his eyes didn't leave the bottle. “Still too warm. Left the water on the stove a little too long,” he said, his voice slowly returning to a normal volume, but it sounded almost blurry. Like he wasn't entirely there anymore.

“Jeffrey said Hilarie texted him. She should be back soon. I’m sure it’ll be cooled down enough to give him then.” He wrapped and arm around Norman’s waist. “So? Special helper? I bet Hilarie has a pretty pink apron you can wear.”

There was a smile, but a weak one. But he blinked when Andrew spoke of Jeffrey and Hilarie, brows furrowing in clouded confusion. “Him?” he said, voice soft again, only for his hand to suddenly let go of the bottle.

Blinking rapidly, Norman sat back up, staring at the kitchen as if he only just snapped back to the present. “Oh. Yeah. Gus. Little Gussi-goo. Probably gonna be hungry.”

Scooting the chair back, Norman finally glanced up at Andrew, who was brandishing an apron at him, forcing a bigger smile. Norman nudged Andrew just slightly with his elbow. “I ain't putting that shit on here. Not if I don't know what's already gone on under that apron.”

“I’m sure they’ve washed it,” Andrew laughed. “You and I both know how hard it is to get dried come off of fabric. I bet Hilarie put it in the wash right away.”

“You fucker,” Norman snickered, leaning back into Andrew's arms just slightly. “That was one fuckin time.”

Andrew dropped the apron, leaning in and perching his head on Norman’s shoulder. Wrapping both arms around Norman’s waist, Andrew grinned at him. “And I’ll never let you forget it either.”

“You still fucked up my nest. Like. Sixteen different times,” Norman countered, the grin growing wider. He shifted slightly in the chair to face him, wrapping an arm around his waist in return.

“You still love me. Even though I’ll completely destroy your nest over and over again.” Andrew smirked and winked at him. “I’m pretty sure,” he said, moving in closer and giving Norman a quick peck on the lips, “that you enjoy when I mess it up. Because you love rolling around in all the blankets and rearranging them to suit your mood of the day.”

A mock growl slipped from Norman, and he snapped his teeth barely a hair’s breadth away from Andrew's own lips, but his grin gave him away. “And so what if I like messing them around. You're lucky I haven't picked a new spot ‘cause I feel like being a headache.”

“Pick whatever spot you like. I’ll follow you around holding blankets and whining like a little lost puppy.”

Barely letting Andrew finish his sentence, Norman reached out and wrapped his arms around the Alpha’s waist, pulling him closer. He pressed his cheek against his exposed throat, letting out a rather Alpha-like rumble. “Could just make you my personal whore. I pay well. Not a lot of vacation time, though.”

Swatting at Norman’s ass, Andrew pulled back and scowled. “I take offence to that word. I’ll have you know I’m a classy girl. I never let strange men peek at my knickers, or share bathtubs with me.”

“Think we've crossed that line more than a few times already,” Norman huffed, a smirk on his face as he met Andrew's scowl. “You'll just be my whore. Ain't no strangers gonna be seeing your ‘knickers’.”

“I suppose if it’s just you.” Andrew laughed softly before leaning in and pressing a long kiss to Norman’s lips. “Never going to let anyone else see me in my unmentionables. Well, you and however many people are going to watch the trailer for the show at Comic Con.”

“Or you just being fucking naked for your movie,” Norman reminded, smirking into the kiss. “Or whoever's gonna see the show in the first place.” Leaning back just enough to separate their lips, he sighed. “Shit, that's coming up. Like a week.”

“That’s all I’ve got left on my schedule for a couple months. I think.” Andrew frowned slightly. “I hope. I’m supposed to go to Costa Rica in a month or so.”

“When the fuck were you gonna tell me this?!” Norman whined loudly, his words echoing in the large kitchen. “I've always wanted to go there! I haven't gotten to surf in fucking years! You're gonna take me with you, right?”

Andrew looked a bit sheepish. “I meant to keep it a surprise. I booked your ticket a couple months ago. Was going to spring it on you at the last minute. Just to keep you on your toes.” He reached higher and wiggled his fingers underneath Norman’s arms. “Can’t have you getting complacent, now, can we?”

As soon as Andrew's hands moved, the Omega started squirming, to the point that he would’ve tipped the stool back had it not been for him grabbing the island counter. “K-knock it off! I'll beat the shit outta you!” Norman complained, trying to swallow down his laughter and glare to the best of his failing abilities.

Andrew’s fingers continued their assault, and he started laughing. His hilarity was pushed even higher by the small, indignant sounding yelps that Norman was letting out, and soon, Andrew was leaning his hands on his knees, looking dangerously close to sprawling out onto the floor. “Oh god,” he wheezed. “You look so offended! I think I need the loo, I’m not kidding.”

Norman had been reduced to a flushed trembling mess, his arms wrapped tight around himself, trying to ward off any potential attack Andrew may still give him. “Cause I am fucking offended! Why did you do that?” Norman tried to scold, but the fact that he was barely able to catch his breath and was having trouble fighting back his own laughter made the venom fall flat.

Andrew let out a high pitched squeal of laughter, and immediately clapped his hands over his own mouth, small sounds still escaping around the sides of his hands. Once he’d gotten himself somewhat under control, he straightened up, and let out a small giggle. He widened his shoulders as much as he could, and puffed out his chest. In his best Daryl voice he growled out, “I’m Norman Reedus, and I’m too manly to be ticklish. It offends my manly pride, rawr, rawr, rawr!”

It was Norman's turn to nearly fall off the stool laughing, tilting back and laying onto the island when he couldn't even sit up straight. “You're such a fucking dork!” he laughed out, eyes squeezed shut, already starting to lose his breath.

Smoothly striding over to Norman’s chair, he placed one hand on the counter, and said, in his best high society British snob voice, “But I’m your dork, darling,” and batted his eyelashes outrageously.

“Holy shit, stop, I can't,” Norman wheezed, reaching out and pressing his hand against Andrew's face, trying to push him away, only to recoil as soon as he felt Andrew's tongue run across his palm. “For fucks sake! You're gonna kill me.”

Grinning unabashedly, Andrew said, “You love me.”

“You can't always use that as an excuse,” Norman panted, still desperately trying to catch his breath. “Even if it is true.”

“Sure I can!” Andrew exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “Used up the last of the shampoo? Ate that special treat you were hiding in the fridge for yourself? Put a scratch on your motorcycle? It’ll be fine, because you love me.”

“Holy shit, if you put a dent in my baby, I'm fucking out,” Norman wheezed, running a hand through his hair, finding that he had started to sweat under the torturous tickling. Clearing his throat, he finally sat up and scooted onto the stool again. “Let's get back before Jeffrey thinks we need to be carted off to the Looney bin.”

“To be clear, I said scratch, not dent. I’d run away from home if I dented it. And no. You go out there and talk to Jeffrey or whatever you want to do. I told him I’m make us all a late lunch, and he gave me free run of the kitchen as long as I, or rather, we, clear up afterwards.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Norman groaned, tilting his head back. One of the last things he wanted to do was to be alone with the Alpha he had just awkwardly avoided, but… He had to. He didn't exactly leave a good impression when he was in the room last. Stifling back more complaints, he stood up from the stool and stretched. “I wanna pet Bandit first. Then you can order me around.”

“Kinky,” Andrew grinned, and slapped Norman on the ass, dancing quickly out of range for the payback slap Norman aimed at Andrew’s own ass. “Thought you didn’t go for that kind of thing, Mr. Reedus.”

“You ain't seen nothing yet,” Norman grinned in return, even when he failed at his own swat. “Once we don't gotta go film or have to be careful on bruising or that kind of shit, you're in for a fucking storm.” Blowing a kiss to Andrew, as there was no way he would be allowed to get close enough for a real one, he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

* * *

Jeffrey was pacing back and forth in front of the fire when Norman walked into the room, thumbnail firmly lodged in the corner of his mouth. As he watched, Bandit launched himself from his position in front of the hearth, and made a beeline for Norman. He went directly between Jeffrey’s legs, and caused him to stumble face first into the overstuffed sofa.

“Loser,” Norman laughed, as he crouched down to scratch at Bandit’s head. The dog’s tail was moving back and forth to quickly it was nothing more than a blur. “Such a good boy,” he cooed, scratching at the top of Bandit’s head, and watching his eyes droop closed.

He looked up from the blissed out puppy at his feet to lock eyes with Jeffrey, his own skittering away quickly to focus back on Bandit. “Uh, Andy is making lunch. Chicken salad.”

“That’s great,” Jeffrey murmured, rubbing at his hip bone where it had smacked into the edge of the couch. “Hil loves chicken salad.”

“Cool. Know when she's gonna be back?” Norman asked, keeping his eyes trained onto the puppy. His focus was almost entirely on trying to find the spots he knew Bandit loved, his eyes narrowed in concentration. If Norman was honest with himself,  _ anything  _ was better than the discussion they both knew needed to happen.

Jeffrey cleared his throat, and sat himself back down in the recliner, silent for a few long moments. When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble. “So, I think I may have misjudged your man in there. Gotten off on the wrong foot. He seems to really care about you.”

_ That _ caught Norman’s attention immediately, and he blinked down at Jeffrey with a wary expression. He waited, expecting the ‘but’ that almost always punctuated his sentences about Andy, but it didn't come. “Uh, it's not like me and Andy did much better at first. I guess that's how this kinda stuff goes.”

Jeffrey’s rich laughter filled the room. “Only if you’re a stubborn asshole.” He grinned over at Norman. “At least you didn’t put him into a headlock, and threaten his life.”

Norman shook his head, his face flushing already. “I fucking wanted to. Wanted to run him over with my bike. Wanted to challenge him and beat the shit outta him. I guess…” Norman paused, staring off into the fireplace. “I guess I wasn't ready to leave the nest. Or the pack. Whatever you wanna call it.”

“I was the same way with Hilarie,” Jeffrey nodded, his eyes always turning soft when he talked about his mate. “She scared the hell out of me, so I ran in the opposite direction until  _ someone _ I know knocked some sense into me.”

A sheepish grin came across Norman's face. “‘Knocked.’ Cute word for it. I left a fucking knot on your head the size of a walnut.” Norman looked back up at Jeffrey, then carefully scooped Bandit up into his arms. He crossed the warm living room and plopped down onto the couch, only a foot or two away from Jeffrey.

“Guess we were both the last ones to know.” Norman pulled his legs up onto the couch, curling up with Bandit nestled against his chest.

“It’s because we’re both idiots when it comes to shit like that.” Shaking his head softly, Jeffrey smiled. “But you and me? Once we take the plunge, we’re in it for good. No turning back, and full steam ahead.” He glanced over at Norman and narrowed his eyes. “If you ever tell him I said this, I’ll deny it, but I think we  _ both _ got lucky.”

Norman dipped his head, shyness clear across his face. He shrugged slowly. “Do you ever miss it though? Back when it was us against the world? Before shit went down?” he asked carefully, looking at Jeffrey from the corner of his eyes. 

“Maybe a little bit,” Jeffrey admitted. “But we can still do most of the shit we used to do together. As long as Prick in there doesn’t get his little panties in a wad.”

“Fucking Misha probably wouldn't see a difference. According to Vicki, he didn't change a God damn bit after they got together. He's probably  _ worse  _ now that they do all their crazy shit together.”

Jeffrey pointed a long finger at Norman, and shook it at him. “Misha is a special case. He’s the most unique goddamn person I’ve ever met in my  _ life. _ Vicki matches up with him fucking perfectly. It makes me a little sick to look at them together lately.” Jeffrey laughed, and said, “Last time Hil and Vicki skyped, Misha’s hand was in the frame, resting on her stomach the entire time. He refuses to leave her side.”

Norman nodded, his eyes focused on Bandit. He ran his hand carefully over his back, smoothing down his fur in delicate motions. “I'm happy for ‘em. Took them forever to decide they wanted a pup, but still.” Norman's voice turned soft. “They're so fucking perfect for each other.”

“Hey, uh,” Jeffrey began, then cleared his throat loudly. The sound made Norman flinch, and a rock fell into his stomach. He knew that tone. That soft, forced tone. Jeffrey paused at Norman’s flinch, only to shake his head.

“I’m sorry that I left you alone when-” Jeffrey swallowed harshly, and ran his fingers through his hair. “When S-Sophia died,” he stuttered. “I wasn’t-”

“I don't want to talk about her. Or any of that.” Norman's voice turned cold, rough like a jagged edge of glass. He curled himself deeper into the couch, staring at some spot on the wall. Maybe if he didn’t look, didn’t talk, the conversation would go away. Like always. Shut it down before the hurt could start. “Not now, not ever.”

“We’ve never talked about it, Norman. Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that? It’s been three fucking years, and we’ve never once mentioned her name.” Jeffrey stood up, and resumed his pacing in front of the fireplace. His shoulders were stiff and tension was visibly running through the rest of his body. “I’ve got some shit to say, and I’m going to say it. You don’t have to say anything back, but  _ I-” _

“You don't gotta say  _ shit. _ She's  _ gone. _ ” Norman sat up on the couch, his eyes burning into Jeffrey’s back. “We fucking buried her. There's  _ nothing  _ left to say.”

When Jeffrey turned around to face Norman, his eyes were glassy, and moist. He pointed a finger at Norman, and said, “You’re going to sit there and listen to me if I have to tie your stubborn ass to the chair, you got me? Three years is long enough to wait.” 

Not even a moment after Jeffrey’s words, Norman was already getting to his feet. But he wasn't going to walk away. Instead, he stepped right up to Jeffrey, scowling, and his eyes already bleeding gold. But there was still the pain. A wound that had never healed no matter how many times he’d tried to stitch it closed.

“I don't  _ need  _ you to tell me anything! They told you, didn't they? They wouldn't tell me, but I fucking knew! I knew the moment we went to the damn hospital!”

Jeffrey just looked confused, momentarily taken aback. “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you going to sit the fuck down, so I can get this shit off my chest, or am I going to feel guilty for the rest of my goddamn  _ life?!” _

Norman's hands fisted at his sides, his eyes only becoming more gold as tears filled them. “You know what I'm talking about! They gave me so many fucking excuses, ‘cause  _ no one _ wanted to tell me.” Norman sucked in a deep breath, even as it shuddered along with his words. “Well, I found out. Didn't need any doctor or nurse telling me.”

Jeffrey looked stunned. Like someone had walked up and punched him in the solar plexus, and he seemed to be having a hard time even drawing a breath. “Jesus Christ, Norm. You think… You can’t possibly think it was  _ your _ fault. The doctors said something like 99% of babies like Sophia die before they’re born.”

“What? Having a fucking _drunk_ , _cigarette smoking_ _Mom?”_

The shout that exploded from Norman made Jeffrey’s eyes widen, but Norman knew. This was what Jeffrey wanted to talk about. Why Sophia died, why it was all his fault. Just to get it out there once and for all.

Trying to breathe through the sob that lurched up his throat, Norman took a step closer, almost pushing up against Jeffrey, if just to make sure the Alpha had no way to keep denying the truth. “You know what, I fucking quit the  _ day  _ we found out! It didn't matter one fucking bit, because she still fucking died! And it was all my fault because fuck me, right? I almost killed Mingus. Why not go two for fucking two! I was a stubborn lush and I took it out on her! She died because I couldn't quit soon enough!”

Norman's words still echoed off the walls as the tears ran down his face, his words almost choked off by three years of guilt. “That's why you left. Because you knew. I killed your pup ‘cause I wasn't good enough, ‘cause I-”

_ “Norman!”  _

Jeffrey reached out and grabbed Norman’s upper arm, and gave him a firm shake. “There was nothing you did or didn’t do that caused it. She had Turner Syndrome, man. How is it that you don’t  _ know _ that? Babies that have that don’t make it. Almost never. No one ever told you?” He let go of Norman’s arm, and sighed. “You didn’t kill our pup, Norm. And I didn’t leave because I thought you did.”

Jeffrey put out one finger under Norman’s chin, and tilted his head, so his eyes were visible. He didn’t give Norman a moment to process the words before he continued. “I left because I didn’t want you to see me break the fuck down. I’m the Alpha. The “strong one”, or whatever the fuck. I should have been able to keep my shit together, but I just…” He sighed again, and dropped his hand back to his side. “I couldn’t. I went out to that old outbuilding, and tenderized the wall. Stains are still there. Broke damn near every bone in both hands.”

At first, Norman refused to look. He shut his eyes, his body turned to stone as he waited for Jeffrey to say what he had been waiting years to say. Say that Norman was a failure of an Omega. Failed Jeffrey. Failed  _ Sophia. _ But what Jeffrey said instead only made his entire mind go blank.

Babies that have that don't make it. Sophia wouldn't have made it. And Jeffrey somehow didn't blame him. His hands remained twisted at his sides, nails digging into his palm to where if he was an Alpha, he would have cut clean through the surface already. When Jeffrey let go of his chin, Norman forced himself to look up at him. His mouth fell open, but for a few moments, he could make nothing come out. Instead the tears just continued to fall.

“I didn't… W-what? They never said-” Sentences died before they could reach his lips, and all he could do was stare and hope that Jeffrey would find a way to understand what he was trying to say.

Reaching out a hesitant hand, Jeffrey took hold of Norman’s wrist, hand warm and gentle. “Come sit down, and I’ll explain, okay?”

There was a pause, but the Omega nodded, even when his body did not move. Just waited for Jeffrey.

Jeffrey tugged his wrist and led him over to the couch, pressing down lightly on his shoulders to get him to sit. Taking the seat next to him, Jeffrey took a deep breath and began to talk.

“Turner Syndrome only happens in girls. It’s when the baby only gets one whole chromosome. You know. Like, guys are XY, and girls are XX. The doctors told me that most of the babies that have it don’t even get past the first trimester. And the stats are even worse for male Omegas. The fact the she was in there for almost seven months was nothing short of amazing, according to them.” 

Another deep breath, and Jeffrey reached out to lay a hand on Norman’s knee before he went on. “Even if she had been born, there would have been major problems. Heart problems, infertility, mental disabilities, chronic high blood pressure, hearing loss, spinal problems, organ malformation… It goes on. It can be pretty devastating in some cases.”

At first, Norman thought that maybe he would feel better, knowing that Sophia hadn't died because of him. But then came the slow realization that she had been doomed from the start. A ticking time bomb that fought so hard to live as long as she did…

He still shivered as he stared at Jeffrey with wide eyes, a new layer of grief sweeping upon him and sinking their hooks in deep. The tears kept falling, even when he didn't make a sound. Finally he opened his mouth, and managed to work out a few words. “She was… already gone. N-nothing we could have…?”

Jeffrey shook his head. “Nothing we could have done.” He squeezed Norman’s knee lightly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

A sob broke free from him at that moment, even when he pressed his hands against his face to try to choke them back again. He shouldn't be breaking apart. It had been three years. He shouldn't be acting this way. But the tears refused to stop, even as he squeezed his eyes shut again and could only muffle the sobs leaking through.

Lifting his arms, Jeffrey asked softly, “Can I...”

How Norman understood, he'd never know. All he knew was that he managed to nod, even when he wanted to scream that this was all he wanted. Wanted to be forgiven. Wanted to grieve with him.

Jeffrey leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Norman’s trembling frame. One hand going up to rest at the nape of his neck. When he spoke, his voice was rough, and Norman could hear the deep grief in it. “I’m sorry that we lost our girl, Norman,” he said, before resting his forehead on the crown of Norman’s head. “But it wasn’t our fault.”

It was then that Norman finally broke. All the tears he shed at the hospital, in the nursery, for  _ months _ after, he realized that it didn't matter if it had been years. The wound was still fresh, but finally, maybe it could begin to heal.

The Omega collapsed into Jeffrey’s grasp, arms wrapping tight around the Alpha if only to anchor him down from the grief and knowledge that threatened to drown him. But there was one key difference between now and three years ago. He could finally grieve with Jeffrey, and know that the Alpha didn't believe that it was his fault, all these years. He cried openly, without shame or hesitation, if just in the hope that Jeffrey would give him the same.

Jeffrey cried, too, and sometime later there was a hushed conversation in the front of the house that they were both too deep into their grief to notice. Andrew, tears on his face as well, met Hilarie and baby Gus at the door. He briefly explained the situation, and the two of them went upstairs, leaving two of the most important pieces of their lives in solitude to work through their shared pain together.


	27. Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filming is over, Walking Dead has premiered, and it's time to go home. What happens after is up to fate, but the future looks that much more brighter.

“Are you fucking done yet?”

The Omega let out a long groan with his words as he flopped onto the couch, limbs splayed out onto any cushion within reach and head rolled back. By the edge of the couch was three bags, overstuffed to ensure that he wouldn't need too much luggage. A few articles of clothing were peeking out from a gap in the zipper, but he had very little interest to fixing it.

Staring across the house, Norman huffed to himself. He hadn’t wanted to come back to Georgia, but Andrew was pretty insistent that four changes of clothes were not going to be enough to last him through the entire hiatus from the show. Which meant that days after settling into Norman’s apartment in New York, they flew back to Georgia to gather the rest. It was nice, in a way, being able to properly say goodbye to all the actors still in the area, but knowing that they would be back in just a few months made it all better.

Norman grabbed at a random blanket flung over the back of the couch, pulling it close to his chest and taking in a deep breath. He would miss this house, even if they would be back soon. Soonish. He just got used to all the smells, started actually seeing this place as home… But filming was complete, and the premiere episode had aired.

As if Norman and Andrew actually watched it. Andrew refused to watch himself, and Norman had been completely focused on skyping with Misha and Vicki, gushing over the beauty of their newborn son, West. While he would love to be there in person, Norman knew that having a strange Alpha like Andrew around a newborn pup would only spell trouble. Even the rest of the Supernatural crew had been cautious.

Maybe he would catch the rerun. Honestly, the only look he’d managed to grasp was the promo trailer they showed at Comic-Con. That had been a fun time. It had been years since Norman had been at a convention, having been focusing on Mingus more than anything else, but the buzzing excitement, the fans…

He felt like they were on the edge of something great.

“Norman, where is my jacket?” Andrew popped his head out of the bedroom and gave Norman a long look. “The one with the furry hood. I had it in the closet, and it’s gone now.”

Leaning his head to match Andrew's gaze as much as he could without actually getting up, he gave a shrug. “I dunno. Sure you didn't pack it already?” he asked, looking quite uninterested. “Don't you have your puffy green one, too? The one so fucking bright it blinds me?”

“I’m leaving the green one here. The other one was in the closet this morning. I made a mental note when I was getting dressed to pack it.” Andrew walked over to the couch and scowled down at Norman. “I’m reasonably positive my coat didn’t grow legs and walk off. That only leaves one other option.”

“That you love me and you'll totally trust me when I say that I didn't just grab random shit off the hangers?” A grin flashed onto Norman’s face, balling up the blanket within his hands only to throw it at Andrew's face. “I'll lend you my jacket if it makes you feel any better.”

Andrew jerked the blanket off his head, and sighed. “My mum bought me that jacket. I’d really rather it didn’t end up a permanent part of your nest. Why don’t you take that fleece pullover I’ve got. I don’t like the collar.” He rubbed at the side of his neck. “It gave me a sore spot on my neck.”

“I'm damn sure that was a hickey.” Snickering to himself, Norman leaned over and grabbed at one of the larger bags, the one overflowing with different articles of clothing. “I dunno. Might be in there. Ain't my fault if your coat smells good.” Fumbling with the zipper, he pulled it back, only for numerous articles of clothing to spill out.

Some were in airtight bags, not wanting the scents to be muddled, but a majority was whatever he had taken from Andrew over the past few months and hoarded away within his nest.

“Well, no, technically, I suppose it would be my fault.” Andrew looked down at the mass of clothing on the floor. “It looks like the closet threw up.”

Kneeling down, Andrew started sifting through the clothes. “I’ll have you know, it was not a hickey. The zipper part on the collar rubbed on the inside of my neck.” He frowned, still picking through the clothes, then muttered under his breath, “And if it was a hickey the collar made it worse.”

“Right, right, stick to your story,” Norman teased, starting to spread out the clothing from the bar, only to turn it upside down and dump down the rest. Then sitting on top of the pile was the illusive coat. “Tada. Now are you ready?”

Andrew’s scowl turned into a smug smile. “All I’ve got to do is pack my coat.” He looked down at the piles of clothing on the floor. “Looks like you’ve got quite a bit left to pack, however.”

“Fuck you!” Norman groaned, leaning over and giving Andrew a firm slap on the ass. “You've been packing since fucking yesterday! I took half an hour!” Swinging his legs back over the side of the couch, he leaned over and started scooping up the clothing.

There were quite a few things he had taken with him from Jeffrey’s ranch, and more from his own house for when he had first moved to Georgia all those months ago. Then there were pieces of clothing that had long lost their scents, but were still a comfort. A hoodie, baby clothes, a scarf… All things he refused to leave behind. It made up the contents of one of the three bags.

While Andrew tried his best to help fold up clothing to put it in neatly, Norman just scooped and shoved. Andrew snorted, and returned to his own bags to ensure everything was packed correctly.

Looking up, Norman smiled at Andrew’s fastidiousness. To think, last week, he had been at one of the lowest points he’d had in years. Crying in Jeffrey’s house, working through three years of horrid pain. Now, it felt like that day was months ago. Norman had walked away from the ranch feeling lighter than he had in years. Everything felt different, like new life had been breathed into him. It was like a new beginning.

“I’ve been packing since yesterday because I’d prefer my clothing be wearable when I take it out of the suitcase.” Andrew gestured at Norman’s wadded up things. “You’re going to look like a homeless person wearing those things,” he said, turning his nose up into the air.

“I'm gonna be comfy as fuck and gonna wear my jacket over it, so suck it.” Throwing a wad at Andrew, he grumbled under his breath before starting to shove in the clothing bit by bit, trying to stuff them down to the best of his abilities. “It's gonna be too damn cold to not wear a damn coat anyway.”

“Why must you always throw things?” Andrew laughed, picking up a pair of Norman’s boxers and throwing them back at him. “You’re a giant child.”

Looking up from the bag, Norman couldn't hide the smile on his face, even as he felt himself blushing. “Please tell me you didn't just realize that. Or you're in for a helluva time.” Grinning, Norman leaned forward and pressed his lips to Andrew's softly.

Andrew leaned away, and licked his lips, smacking them loudly. “I’ve been aware for quite some time, actually.” He grabbed hold of the back of Norman’s neck, and yanked him forward for another long kiss. When he pulled back, he smirked at the dazed look on Norman’s face, and stood up. “One of the things I love about you, if I’m honest.”

“One of the things?” Norman hummed, eyes soft and his body relaxing under his touch. “Now you got my interest.” Pulling his arms around Andrew's shoulders, he leaned in closer and rested his forehead against his. He ran his fingertips through Andrew's short curls, stroking slowly.

Ignoring the scattered clothing at their feet, and the fact that they were on a tight schedule to begin with, he leaned in again and kissed Andrew.

“I’ve only just captured your interest?” Andrew said softly when Norman pulled away. He ran his hands down Norman’s chest and idly toyed with the waistband of his jeans. “I could have sworn I’d gotten your attention ages ago.”

“I dunno. I got the attention span of a gnat.” A shiver ran up his spine as he felt the fingers right at the edge of his jeans, a purr rumbling in his throat. “Doing a damn good job so far. Keep it up.” With a shimmer of gold, Norman pulled Andrew closer and pressed their lips together, running his tongue across the seam, fully intending on not leaving this spot on the floor.

Andrew opened his mouth and sucked Norman’s top lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the smooth skin. “What happened to wanting to leave? We’re going to be late if you keep this up.” One of his hands tightened on the waist of Norman’s jeans, and the other went to the button fly and started pulling it open.

“New York’s still gonna be there. Can grab another flight.” There was a low rumble in his words, removing one hand from Andrew's hair and trailing it along the buttons of Andrew's shirt, unbuttoning the top two off with ease. His eyes were hazy, and he gave Andrew's lip a soft bite.

“Hmm, yes, I suppose we could do that.” Andrew’s hand slowly began working it’s way into Norman’s loosened jeans. “We’ll have to text Mingus, and let him know we’re going to be late.”

Almost immediately, Norman's teeth snapped down onto Andrew's bottom lip, followed up by a loud curse. “Shit, shit, Ming!” Norman hissed as he pulled himself out of Andrew's grasp in one swift motion. His hands flew to his bags, yanking them up by the handles and started rushing to put them by the door.

Reaching up, and pressing his fingers to his lips, Andrew flinched. When he drew back and looked, there was blood on his fingertips. “Fuck, Norman! You made me bleed!”

“I'll kiss it better later, get your ass moving!” Norman shot past Andrew, rushing for the bedroom and to Andrew's bags stacked onto the bed. He was a blur as he ran past the other way, and continued until every bag except the one spilled onto the floor was sitting by the door.

Andrew sighed. “I guess now I know never to mention the M-word if I ever want to get laid again,” he muttered, reaching down and adjusting himself with a wince. “We don’t have to leave for about 10 minutes, you know. We’ve got time.” He plastered a pleading look on his face, hoping to get Norman’s attention.

It succeeded, marginally, and as Norman approached to grab the clothes and shove them back into the open bag, he skidded to a stop, breath caught in his throat. He exhaled with a whine, Norman's eyes focused on Andrew and the small spot of blood down his bottom lip. His eyes flashed to the door, then back at Andrew.

“Uh… Uhm…” he whined, his hand tapping against his leg as he tried to decide before finally looking back. “How confident is your driving?”

Andrew just blinked for a moment. “Uh… I’ve not been driving here in the US for that long. It could be better? I guess?”

Norman's brow furrowed in thought, eyes narrowed as he turned back to the door. Finally deciding, he leaned down and grabbed at the clothes, rapidly shoving them into the bag. “I'll blow you on the drive to the airport. C’mon!”

“Well, shit, let’s go then,” Andrew said, walking swiftly over to Norman, and grabbing the handles of his two suitcases. “Come on! Let’s get this shit loaded up! We’ve got a plane to catch!”

Snatching up the last of his own bags, Norman rushed to the door and pulled it open. Within a minute all the bags had been put in the back, and Norman had his carry-on in his hands. “I want those pants down your ass asap!” he called out, as he grabbed the doorknob and swung it closed.

Seconds later, he pulled it open again, cursing lowly. “Keep your dick on, damn!” Norman rasped, his voice already rough and gold in his gaze as he ran back inside the house, hands pawing across the table or any flat surface. Finally finding the keys to the car in a crevice in the couch, he ran back through the doorway.

“I'm coming, you horny fuck!”

Slam.

* * *

“Norman?”

“Hm.”

“Are you still in a twist because you got… stuff on your slacks?”

“No. I'm in a ‘twist’ because you almost drove us head first into a semi!”

“I was attempting to pass! There was plenty of space.”

A well aimed punch landed on Andrew's shoulder, and Norman cursed under his breath.

They stood side by side in front of the ever-flowing river of suitcases and bags at LaGuardia, Norman's eyes squinted as he stared into the black hole that was spitting out bag after bag. His foot was tapping on the floor, already growing impatient.

“I hope you had blue balls for fucking hours until we got in that fucking bathroom.”

Andrew laid a hand on his shoulder, massaging Norman slowly. He pressed his lips to the Omega’s temple, hearing soft grumbles in response. His blue eyes watched the trail of bags from the corner of his eyes, letting Norman expel whatever curse he needed to before he would need to be censored around Mingus.

Glancing around the rest of the airport, Andrew was trusting Norman to keep a lookout for their bags, someone tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around there was a group of several college aged kids standing in front of him. “Err, can I help you?”

Even in the slight crowd of people within the airport all waiting for their bags, there had to be nearly a dozen sets of eyes on him. And most of them were women. Barely a moment after Andrew stopped speaking, one squeaked, “Oh my god, you're Rick, right?!” The girl who spoke then took in a deep gasp. “Oh my god are you British?!”

Andrew blushed, and smiled. “Yes, that’s me. Also, yes, I’m originally from England.” He held out his hand to her. “Andrew. And you are?”

The hand he held out was ignored, and with a squeal she flung her arms around Andrew's neck, nearly dragging him down to the ground. “Oh my god!” She squealed loudly, before she suddenly let go. Her hands patted on her pockets frantically. “Shit, uh, uh, I gotta have your autograph! Please?”

Staggering slightly when she let go, he nodded, slightly taken aback by her enthusiasm. “No problem. I think I’ve got a pen if you don’t.” He turned to look back at Norman. “Have you got a pen in your jacket? I thought I saw you put one in there earlier.”

Norman huffed loudly, his eyes narrowed as he looked back at the crowd. “I'm in the damn show, too,” he muttered to himself, reaching into his pocket and taking out a sharpie. He held it out to Andrew, scowling.

The crowd tightened their circle around Andrew, and the chatter started. Some were already pulling out random scraps of paper, some rolling up their sleeves, and brandishing arms for him to sign. As soon as Andrew uncapped the pen, Norman said loud enough to be heard for the crowd. “Hey, I'm in the show, too! I play Daryl, the, uh, guy with the crossbow?”

The woman who’d climbed all over Andrew turned to look at him. Her eyes tracked up and down his body, and she shrugged. “I don’t recognize you. You must have gotten killed off early. Did you have any lines at all?” She laughed, and then pointed at Andrew. “Him, I remember.”

She looked Andrew up and down, and licked her lips, causing Norman’s blood pressure to suddenly skyrocket. “I’d take more than an autograph from him, if you know what I mean!” And she turned around and merged back into the growing crowd around Andrew.

Gold flared into Norman’s eyes instantaneously. His hands fisted at his side's, and he was moments away from snapping before he swallowed down the primal urge to yank them away from his Alpha. “I had lines! And… And I killed a ton of zombies. I was gonna beat his ass!” Norman grumbled, pointing at Andrew still in the thick of the crowd.

Andrew was grinning widely as he signed autographs, and posed for selfies with the dozen or so people that had crowded around him. Once the last person left, he turned to Norman, his grin even wider. “That was amazing!” He held his hands up in front of himself. “Are my hands shaking? Could you tell I was freaking out? Do you think they could tell I was freaking out?”

“Yeah, yeah, tons of fun, now you're gonna write so many damn autographs your hands are gonna fall off.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Norman huffed and looked back to the bags still rolling through. “This is the third fucking time that I've seen that bag. We missed them. Again.”

Andrew just stood there, grinning from ear to ear. “No big deal. We’ll get them on the next pass.” He glanced back to a few of the people who he’d signed autographs for, still watching him, and waved. “This is so fucking cool.”

“That's gotta be the first time I've heard you use the word ‘cool’ without it being ironic.” Norman looked back over his shoulder to the fans, and worked up a smirk. “And they had no fucking idea who I was. So I guess I'll be your third wheel at the cons.” Smirking back at Andrew, he lightly nudged him in the side.

Throwing one last look at them, Norman grunted before he reached out, wrapping his arms around Andrew's neck and pulling him against the Omega. He pressed his face into Andrew’s neck, rubbing his cheek against his stubbly throat. “Mine,” Norman rumbled, letting his hands run across where he had seen the fans touch him.

Chuckling, Andrew buried his fingers in Norman’s short hair. “All yours, Buttercup,” he whispered, his free hand resting lightly on Norman’s chest. “Don’t worry. Your episodes haven’t aired yet. This is probably the only time I’ll ever get more attention than you. You’re much sexier than me.” He waggled his eyebrows at Norman, and winked.

Norman flushed in response, immediately burying his face back into Andrew's neck. He muffled curses against his flesh, before finally lifting his head back up. He glanced to the baggage carousel, cursing. “Shit, there they are!” he yelped, separating himself from Andrew and lunging for the collection of bags running along the track.

“C'mon before they get sucked back in!”

Grabbing the two closest bags, Andrew pulled them off the conveyor belt. “We really need to pack lighter,” he said, going back to grab two more bags. “Why didn’t we get one of those luggage things? In the words of George Carlin, ‘We’ve got too much stuff.’”

“Yeah, right. What, you'd rather drive instead?” Norman grunted as he pulled off one last bag, the one holding everything he was planning to incorporate into his nest. Heaving out a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair then looked back to Andrew, grinning.

“Mark my fucking words. I am never driving from here to set.”

* * *

Andrew was not a violent person. Truth be told, he was probably more easygoing than the majority of the Alphas he’d ever met. But for the love of all that was holy, if Norman continued bouncing in his seat and it continued making that horrid squeaking noise, he was going to explode!

His hand latched onto Norman's shoulder, putting in enough strength to force Norman into some element of stillness. The Omega turned his head to look back at Andrew, confusion clear in his gaze. “What?” he asked, brows furrowed together.

“Is it at all possible for you to sit still? You’re driving me mad,” Andrew said, a furrow visible between his brows.

Blinking, Norman tilted his head just slightly.”Wasn't doing nothing,” he said in return, only to look back out the window of the moving taxi. Norman had began that incessant bouncing minutes into the drive, and Andrew only had so much patience at his disposal.

Pressing his cheek to the glass, Norman's blue eyes flicked across the landmarks that ran past. At least he wasn't bouncing. But now his leg was beginning to bounce instead. Much less noise, but irritating nonetheless.

Gritting his teeth, Andrew reached over and squeezed Norman’s thigh. “Still, Norman. Do you know what that word means?”

The Omega shifted as soon as Andrew's palm clamped down onto his thigh. His head swung back to look at him, a hint of excitement in his gaze only for it to wither away. “I'm trying!” he groaned, awkwardly tugging on the seatbelt to lengthen it so he could pull his legs beneath him on the seat.

Andrew smirked, and glanced up at the taxi driver. He was absorbed in the traffic that was flowing around them. Reaching over for Norman’s hand, Andrew slid it underneath his coat, setting it directly on top of his groin. Leaning in, he whispered in Norman’s ear, “I’ve got something that will keep you occupied.”

In an instant, gold expanded in Norman's eyes, and his tongue swiped across his lips. He gave Andrew a tentative squeeze. “You aren't wrong,” he huffed, keeping his voice low. His own eyes flicked back to the driver, watching for any sign that he’d noticed.

Moving his hand, Andrew slid it, on top of the coat, to cover Norman’s. He pressed down, and jutted his hips forward slightly, his eyes going half lidded, with just a glimmer of red visible on the outer edge. “What are you waiting for?”

If there was any doubt of what Andrew wanted, Norman couldn't find any. His mouth dropped open, and he ran his tongue across his lips, then looked back to the driver. Moving slowly, he reached down and pressed down on the seatbelt buckle, hearing the soft click of it being released. He stopped, waiting for the driver to notice the sound, then let the belt retract inch by inch.

Fully absorbed in his mission, Norman pulled whatever stealth he’d learned from Daryl as he ducked down, awkwardly squeezing a leg into the space between the seats. It was difficult with his wider shoulders, but he managed to sneak to where he was hunched over Andrew's lap, already pawing at the fastening of his pants. “If you get us fucking kicked out,” he whispered, even as the gold swallowed any remaining blue in his eyes.

Andrew nearly bit through his lip when Norman unzipped his trousers, and pulled his cock out, and into the frigid air. Despite the excellent handy Norman had gifted him with on the plane, Andrew felt like he hadn’t had any action for months.

A little thrill ran down his spine as he looked out the window. Hundreds of people milling about just feet from him. His fingers clenched on the armrest when Norman’s tongue swiped over the tip of his dick, and he shuddered. “More,” he whispered, casting his reddened eyes up to the driver, who still seemed completely oblivious.

“Fucking whore,” Norman breathed against his cock, his breath hot compared to the fall air. Swallowing, Norman licked his lips then reached up and wrapped his hand around Andrew's hard cock. Opening his mouth he ran his tongue across the head again, letting his eyelids droop. Norman’s thumb ran across the vein beneath, visibly shivering as he felt Andrew's quickening pulse.

Prying his fingers off the armrest, Andrew placed his hand on Norman’s cheek. “What did I say, Norman,” he rasped. “More.” His fingers moved up into Norman’s hair, and he pressed down. “Open for me, like a good boy.”

The Omega knew by now that he was unable to resist a single order from Andrew, especially when it came to this. His eyes fluttered open to meet Andrew's red ones, and he let himself be pressed down. He lowered his hand just enough to where he could wrap his mouth around the head, running his tongue around and sucking, his cheeks hollowing as he did. Norman’s eyes never left Andrew's face.

Andrew grunted softly, and bucked up his hips, forcing more of his length down Norman’s throat. His eyes fluttered closed, and his head fell back against the seat. Norman swirled his tongue around the tip, before focusing on the fluid leaking out. His agile tongue dipped into the small hole, and a strangled off moan, definitely loud enough to be noticed, slipped through Andrew’s lips.

Norman jerked his head up, and focused his blurry gaze on the driver. His hand tightened in Norman’s hair, temporarily halting his movement. When there were no shouts of outrage forthcoming, Andrew loosened his fingers, and tapped Norman on the cheek. Looking into his eyes, he mouthed, “Back to it.”

Norman nearly moaned, but managed to swallow it down along with Andrew's length. He pushed his head down more, almost defiantly, lightly gagging around Andrew’s girth. His hand clutched onto Andrew's coat, while the other was running down his own chest to desperately pulled at his own zipper.

He couldn’t see it from his position, but the rhythmic motions of Norman’s shoulder told Andrew what he was up to. Forcing down another moan, he tightened his fingers even more, forcing a small whine from Norman’s mouth.

One eye on the street, and one eye on the driver, Andrew let his head fall back again. His breathing was getting faster, and his toes were starting to curl inside his shoes. “Norman,” he panted, as softly as he could, “I-”

Andrew broke off, biting his lip savagely to keep himself quiet. His fingers pulled on Norman’s hair, the only thing he could do to let his Omega know what was about to happen.

Norman's golden eyes widened, as if uncertain that the risk was worth the reward, but then he closed his eyes and started to bob his head in smooth strokes, gagging slightly whenever Andrew hit the back of his throat. He tried to keep up a rhythm, but judging by his own heavy breath and his fingers clenching and unclenching on Andrew's jacket, he was just as close to losing himself as Andrew was.

Moving his leg as smoothly as he could, Andrew pressed it in between Norman’s legs. He could feel Norman’s fist flying up and down his own cock, and Andrew’s eyes flared fully red for a moment at the thought of his Omega coming all over the both of them. He bared his teeth and let out a low snarl, pulling Norman’s head down as far as it would go. Seconds later, his release was being swallowed down by a happily purring Omega.

It was only when Andrew was licked clean that Norman finally released him in a heavy pant, trying to catch his breath but with his own orgasm building up. His eyes were watering as he began rutting up against Andrew's leg, not even caring that it was against rough fabric. His hazy eyes looked up at Andrew, mouth dropped and he pressed his cheek against Andrew's thigh, begging in silence for permission for his own release.

“Do it,” Andrew whispered. “All over my leg.” He pressed harder against Norman’s shuddering frame, and bared his teeth again, fangs flashing in the late afternoon sunlight.

The next breath Norman took in almost choked him, and he had to cut off the moan rushing to escape him. Opening his mouth wide, he bit down onto Andrew's thigh just as a shudder ran through his entire body. His growl was muffled in Andrew's muscular thigh, Norman still rutting up desperately on Andrew's leg, soaking his pants.

If he’s been a few years younger, the sight of Norman coming all over his leg, coupled with the feeling of teeth sinking into his thigh would have made Andrew hard again immediately. As it was, his poor spent dick gave several interested twitches before it lapsed back into stillness.

He smiled languidly down at Norman, whose face was flushed prettily, and lay panting on his thigh. Andrew dragged his fingers through his Omega’s hair, smoothing down the errant spikes his grip had created, and soothing Norman almost into sleep.

It took a few moments, but Norman's glazed eyes found Andrew again, only to give a shy smile in return. He unhooked his teeth from Andrew's leg, rubbing his cheek against his thigh while giving soft, throaty purrs. Once he regained his composure, he carefully tucked himself back into his pants and started the slow process of climbing back into his own seat.

Once Norman situated himself, Andrew reached across the seat, and pulled the other man closer. He leaned in and nuzzled his face into Norman’s neck, licking across the claiming mark he’d put there, one that he knew soon would be replaced by a mating mark. “Love you, Buttercup” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the mark for good measure.

The purrs rumbled without restraint, his head leaning back and giving Andrew full sight of the mark. A light shiver ran through his body at the touches. “Love you too, Farmboy,” he rasped, his voice slightly hoarse. It made his face flush with realization, then came the awkward coughing to clear his throat. If that didn't get the drivers attention, nothing would.

Glancing out the window, Andrew chuckled. “Looks like we, ahem… finished, just in time.” He jutted out his chin at the street. “We’re only a block away, if I recall correctly. Just enough time to freshen up.”

Andrew reached into the pocket of his coat, the one with the furry collar, and pulled out a packet of mints. “Mint?” he grinned.

His face now completely red, Norman huffed to himself as he took the packet, plucking out two. He tossed them both into his mouth, quietly sucking on them and hoping that it would help mask anything Mingus may smell.

Even if they’d had ‘the talk’ already, that did not mean that he wanted to destroy his boy's innocence any further than it had already been.

“You're an asshole,” Norman mumbled around the mints.

Andrew smiled smugly, and popped a mint of his own. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “I like watching you suck on things.”

Immediately, Norman jerked by his side, only to start coughing. He pressed his hand against his throat, his eyes once again watering up. “Y-you fucker, made me almost choke!” he groaned, coughing again.

Andrew threw back his head and let out a loud laugh, earning a small smile from their driver. He turned around, and addressed them. “Here we are boys. Now you have a good day.”

The rest of the world was soon forgotten in Norman's mind, and he flung open the door, and scrambled out. He even left the door wide open, bolting straight to the front door of his home. Within moments, he had disappeared inside.

Shaking his head softly, Andrew climbed out of the cab and headed around the the back to unload all their luggage. The cabbie hopped out as well, and lent a hand.

After they were finished, Andrew thanked him, and wished him a good day.

The cabbie smiled at him, and put his hands in his pockets. “I sure will try, Mr. Lincoln. And I think my day’s going to win over yours. I’m pretty sure I’m the only man in America who can say Rick Grimes got a blowjob in his cab.”

The cabbie grinned one last time, touched his fingers to the brim of his hat, and got back into his cab. He pulled away while Andrew stood there on the curb, surrounded by luggage, his jaw nearly on the ground.

Andrew was not abandoned for long, though, not as the door to Norman's house opened again. Though the person stepping out made Andrew feel uneasy. Helena.

She walked up the sidewalk, dressed to perfection as always, her heels clicking on the concrete. “You may need a hand,” she said as she approached Andrew, already leaning down to grab one or two of the bags.

He smiled warily, eyeing her obviously, even to his eyes, expensive outfit. “Thanks. I’m sure Norman will be occupied reacquainting himself with Mingus for at least the next half hour.”

“Replacing his scent. He doesn't like it when Mingus doesn't smell like him,” she huffed softly, adjusting her grip onto the two bags in her hands before she started walking back down towards the house again. It still left Andrew with the majority of the bags, but it was better than nothing.

Nodding, Andrew followed Helena up the steps and into the building. Once they reached Norman’s apartment he walked inside, and set the bags down near the stairs. His face flushed when he watched Helena visibly inhale, and then send a smirk in his direction.

“I can tell Mingus isn't the only one he's ‘replacing’ his scent on,” she said, only for her eyes to narrow. “I want none of that behaviour around Mingus. I already have Norman’s cursing to try to undo.”

“That’s not something you need to worry about,” he assured her. “At all. Anytime someone even mentions his name, Norman is lost.” He chuckled, and smiled to himself before looking back up at Helena. “He really loves that kid. You two have done an amazing job raising him.”

The other Alpha blinked, her eyes still narrowed as she waited for Andrew to continue, only to slowly relax again. “It took hard work, and there have been some very trying times.” She looked over her shoulder, to where they could hear a combination of laughter and conversation within the living room. “But I do agree. Norman loves Mingus very much.”

“I’m sure you do as well.” Andrew took a deep breath, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“It is good to know that he would do anything to protect Mingus, at least.” She bit down slightly onto her bottom lip, and it was the first sign of hesitation or doubt that Andrew had seen. Helena seemed like the type of woman who made full use of her Alpha position.

Trying to reassure her, Andrew said, “I would as well, you know.” He cocked his head and listened as a peal of laughter from Mingus came out of the living room, followed by a rough chuckle from Norman, and smiled softly.

Looking back at Helena, Andrew continued, “He’s important to Norman, so he’s important to me. I know you probably won’t believe me when I say this, but I’ll protect him like he’s my own child.”

Helena gave a low rumble of approval, even as she tried to cover it up by clearing her throat. She crossed her arms carefully over her chest, and turned her head to face Andrew. “Even if I don’t…excel in showing it, Norman is important to me. I want him happy. And I knew that I wasn't making him very happy. You seem to.”

Andrew smiled at her. Probably the first genuine smile he’d ever offered her. She was trying, he could tell, but he could also tell it was difficult for her. Opening up her child’s life, and to a lesser extent, her own, to a complete stranger couldn’t be easy.

A surge of warmth suddenly rushed through Andrew’s body, and goosebumps popped up on his skin. This was all really happening. The thing he had dreamed of since he was a child. He had a soon-to-be-mate, and a child, and they were going to be a real family. His smile widened and, impulsively, he stepped up to Helena and gave her a gentle, quick squeeze. “Thank you for letting me be a part of Mingus’ life, Helena. It means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

The Alpha in his arms jolted, clearly not expecting the hug, but she did not protest. She even faintly blushed as Andrew stepped back, looking at him at an even level. Equals.

“If you intend to stay, as I would expect you to do, then there are some rules.”

Shattering the pure moment for Andrew, she stepped towards her purse and picked out some folded up papers. She unfolded them, then held them out for Andrew to see.

“Mingus does not stay up past 10pm on school nights. Even during the weekend, his bedtime is 11pm. Norman forgets this. Norman can forget to pack a lunch for him, too, but I keep money in his meal account at all times. This should be checked on every month. I would much rather him not play adult-rated video games, but if he must, an adult must be present. There will be no swearing, no lewdness, and he must have breakfast every morning.”

As Andrew numbly took hold of the papers, his eyes widened. They were typed notes. At least three or four pages full. And they weren't just about Mingus. There were sections about pets, sports, potential allergies, and an entire page on Norman's habits or forgetfulness.

Slightly overwhelmed, Andrew nodded. “I’ll do the best I can to make sure I keep to the rules. The breakfast bit is no problem. I fancy myself a bit of a cook.” He smiled at Helena, hoping to get one back, even a small one, as another sign of progress. “I love a good fry up in the mornings.”

It was slight, but just for a few moments, there was a smile. It was coupled with a look of relief, but one she masked over quickly. “Norman also tends to be hazardous with his motorcycle driving. And I know he's taken Mingus to school on that. Try to control that as best as you can. Even if Mingus believes it looks ‘cool’ to come to school on a motorcycle, it will be much less ‘cool’ if Norman gets in a wreck with him on it.”

Andrew grimaced. “That will be more difficult. You know how Norman is with his motorcycle.” He shook his head fondly. “I’ll do what I can, however. And since I’m not likely to be able to prevent it entirely, I’ll at least make sure he has the proper safety gear. I’ll take him to the shops myself.”

There was hesitation, then a nod. “Good. I will check in once or twice a week. It's part of our agreement that he spends time with the both of us together whenever possible. I don't live far. We will arrange what will happen when it's time for filming again later.”

Raising a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, Andrew frowned. “About that…” he started, rubbing at his chin. “My mother has surprised me and bought tickets for us to go to my family home in London. During the holidays this winter.”

At Helena’s questioning look, he went on. “That is, she’s bought tickets for all three of us.”

Had Helena had fur, she would have been bristling the moment Andrew said the word ‘three’. She opened her mouth immediately, only for Andrew to speak again.

“Before you say no…” Fingers scratching through the scruff on his jaw again, Andrew said, “I haven’t told Norman about this. I wanted to get an okay from you first, before I said anything. And I know it’s asking a lot. I’m sure you’d really rather not be away from your son during the holidays.”

Andrew laughed softly. “My mother has been driving me absolutely spare telling me she wants to meet her new grandson. It would mean a lot to her. And to me, if you’d let him go.”

His words were met with silence, even though her eyes were narrowed and her nails tapped on her arms. The frown was clear on her face, and it did not take much to see that she was far from happy about this sudden shift, but she was quiet. Thinking.

It took a full minute before Helena let out a long sigh. “I have rules for trips. I didn't write them because Norman has the same rules when I'm out of the country with him.”

Clearing her throat, she straightened up, the authoritative glint back in her eyes. “I expect a text every night. A phone call every other day. I want Norman to call me every few days. And I want a Skype call once a week. And I want to talk to him on Christmas. Are we clear?”

“Helena?” Andrew said, his smile getting wider by the second. “You are the most brilliant person in the world.” He threw his arms around her again, and squeezed her tightly for a few seconds. “Thank you,” he murmured, dipping his head a bit to acquaint himself better with her scent. She smelled of spices with a slightly sweet note that reminded Andrew of a shop back in the neighborhood of his first apartment. It was a Moroccan deli/grocery, and it always smelled of cinnamon and ginger, coriander, and tumeric. They made a tea with honey and mint, and whenever Andrew walked in the door, his eyes always fluttered closed as he took in all the scents.

He let her go and stepped back, his eyes slightly teary. “Thank you, Helena.”

The hug seemed to have flustered the other Alpha again, her cheeks red and her body slightly stiff. Andrew could tell she was almost the direct opposite of Norman when it came to physical affection. “Y-yes, well… It is important that Mingus sees extended family. And I will allow some amount of spoiling for the holidays.”

Andrew’s smile couldn’t have been any brighter. “I’ll tell them at dinner tonight. Does Mingus have anything he likes especially well to eat?”

To that, Helena let out a huff. “He is too much like his father. He will eat near anything you set on a plate. It's probably a survival mechanism to survive his cooking.”

Letting out a bark of laughter at that, Andrew nodded. “He set my microwave on fire. Ruined a hundred fifty quid pan as well, the bastard.”

“The only thing he can make moderately well is sweets. Which you will need to limit. For both of them.” Her voice turned stern, an odd seriousness in her tone. “Norman can have one chocolate bar a night. Mingus, occasionally as treats.”

“As you say,” Andrew replied. “Since it is a holiday, I might let the spoil themselves just a bit. I might even join them. The chocolate in America is awful.” His lips formed into a moue of distaste.

Helena shuddered. “I cannot stand the chocolate he eats. I refuse unless it's European. And rarely at that.”

Andrew tilted his head, and looked at Helena intently. “Dark or light?”

“Dark,” she replied immediately.

“Just so. I’ll bring you back a bar from a little shop I know in London. They’ve been making chocolate for over a hundred years. There’s a dark chocolate bar with cherries that is my personal favorite.”

The slightest ring of red appeared around Helena’s iris as Andrew described the chocolate, but she blinked it away. “I would appreciate it. Now.” She clapped her hands together, then pointed to Andrew's stained pants. “Change. Immediately. I will say goodbye to Mingus as you do so.”

He blushed, and spoke quickly. “Sorry. We might have gotten a little carried away in the ca-” He cut himself off, and his blush deepened. “Er, I mean, yes. Going to change now.”

Grabbing his suitcase, he headed up the stairs. Looking back over his shoulder, he paused. “Thank you, again. It was good to see you, Helena. I look forward to next time.”

“Yes, yes, just… Just change. The smell is giving me a headache.” She rubbed her fingers against her temple, then turned to look back up at Andrew. “Just promise you will take care of them. Both of them. I owe so much to Norman, and I don't want to see him get hurt.” And just like a traditional Alpha, there was a hint of a threat with her words.

Listening to Norman and Mingus’ laughter drift out of the building, Andrew smiled, and a soft look crossed his face. “Easiest promise I’ll ever make.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of this fic! Woooo! Thank you all who have been on this journey with us, through the twist and turns, but there's a few last things.
> 
> We did start writing a Season Two, as well as fics involving potential children from our lovely couple. If you would like to see this, unedited or no, we could post this up in a separate fic. Some of them will not be completed, it's more just to add to our little lore to our little world. Let us know, and we love each and every one of you!
> 
> We are currently editing through a 120k fic with Rick and Daryl, and we hope to start posting chapters of our completed fic as soon as this or next week. We hope you will all follow along on our journey.
> 
> Thank you! <3


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